


Smitten

by maraudersaffair



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, Getting Together, Hogwarts Professors, Light Bondage, M/M, Not Epilogue Compliant, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-09 02:26:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 18,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12878214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersaffair/pseuds/maraudersaffair
Summary: Harry has been nursing a crush on Draco for ages. This Christmas Harry will finally go after him.





	1. Advent Calendar

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Christmas Challenge at [DracoHarry100](https://dracoharry100.livejournal.com/1271682.html) and [New Year's Countdown](https://newyearcntdown.livejournal.com/). My goal is to update this story _everyday_ this month. Unbeta'd. Thanks for reading!

Harry was smitten. Incredibly smitten. It was a bit pathetic really.

He closed his eyes and heard Hermione’s voice in his head. _No, don’t think negatively about yourself! You should be your biggest champion!_ He snorted. Oh, Hermione.

The problem was that he was doing something that made him feel a bit (a lot) foolish. He’d bought Draco Christmas gifts. Multiple. More than a few.

Okay, he’d bought Draco twenty five Christmas gifts. It’d seemed like a good idea in the shop, but now, with all of them wrapped up in front of him, it made him feel like a twat. It made him look . . . _desperate._

He flinched. He _was_ desperate. Very, very, mind-numbingly desperate. He wanted Draco so much that he couldn’t fucking _breathe_.

It hadn’t always been like this. Only a few years ago Harry’d thought he was straight. But about five . . . no seven, no _eight_ years ago he realized that he was attracted to men. Back then, he still thought he would be an Auror and married to Gin. He would’ve never expected to end up teaching at Hogwarts and pining after Draco fucking Malfoy.

He sighed and spelled the twenty five gifts into the advent calendar that was shaped like a house. He was not crafty, so the house was a bit lopsided, the roof slowly ungluing at the top. He’d spelled the wood red and green, and had little painted Christmas trees dance on the sides. The house contained holes for the gifts and, with all of them in place, it looked a bit . . . much.

Oh, well. No going back now.

“You won’t _believe_ what Macaroni did in class!” Draco said from the doorway.

Harry startled. “Christ—knock or something!”

Draco smirked, and looked entirely too pleased. Of course he immediately noticed the calendar. “What the hell is that?”

“Oh, um—”

“Another one of Mrs Weasley’s barmy ideas, I suppose?”

Harry flushed. “Actually, it’s for you.”

“She got me presents?” He was beaming. He plucked out the first gift and stared at it. “I never thought she . . . cared.” His voice was very soft.

Oh, hell.

“No, it’s not from her,” Harry said, his heart hammering. “It’s from me.”

Draco gaped at him. “What?”

“I bought you twenty five gifts . . . one to open up each day until Christmas. Then of course the last one is your main Christmas gift.”

“ _What?_ ”

Harry sat down in a chair, waiting for Draco to process it all. Draco wandered to the opposite chair, still holding the first gift. He looked stunned.

“I could make tea,” Harry said, not really knowing how to help.

“No . . . don’t bother.” Draco rotated the gift in his hands. His cheeks were a little pink. “I had no idea . . .”

Harry winced. He looked away. He just wanted to throw himself on Draco, kiss him deeply, _devour him_ , but he was scared. So, so scared. He didn’t know what he’d do if Draco rejected him.

“Take that one with you and open it tomorrow on December first,” Harry said softly.

Draco looked at him, and his eyes were unreadable. “I will.”

“So, what did Milani do again?”

“ _Macaroni_ blew up his cauldron again! AGAIN!”

Harry tried to hide his smile. “That’s it. Off with his head. Hang him from his toenails.”

“ _Yes._ I’m glad you understand.” Draco smirked. He got to his feet. “My next class starts in ten minutes. Must dash.” He hesitated near the door almost shyly. “Thanks for . . . thinking of me.”

“Of course. All the time.” Harry coughed. “I mean anytime. You can come to me anytime for help.”

Draco laughed.


	2. Christmas Lights

Harry always loved Hogwarts in December. Snow blanketed the grounds, Hagrid hauled in large Noble Firs, Flitwick spent hours dotting the crisp branches with glowing bulbs and ornaments. 

He walked the chilly corridors, smiling blandly at the students, nodding politely to the suits of armor. He whistled under his breath. The castle felt like _home_.

“Come on, you dickhead.”

Harry paused, not sure what he was hearing. He rounded a corner and discovered Draco tangled up in fairy lights. He pulled and pulled, but the cords just tightened, straining against his thin shoulders.

“All right there, Malfoy?” Harry cupped his mouth, trying to hide his smile.

Draco spun in his direction. “Of course I’m not all right! Look at this mess!”

“So . . . do you need some help?”

“Yes! Merlin, yes!”

Harry blinked, not really able to handle what he was witnessing. Draco was _tied up_ and _crying out_. His face warmed, and he imagined himself twirling his wand, smirking, as he asked Draco to beg to be released.

“Why are you just staring? Help me!”

“Right.” Harry rushed forward to untangle him. He attempted to slice the cords with his wand but it didn’t work. “Shite. I’m sure these are George’s joke lights.”

“Nobody’s laughing!”

“Just—calm down.”

“I am calm!” Draco shrieked, struggling, his hands clawing.

Harry put away his wand and grabbed Draco by the shoulders. “Shh. Listen to me, everything is fine.”

Draco’s eyes were frantic. “ _Help me._ ” There was so much tension in his body. Harry took a deep breath, trying to ignore how close they were.

“I’m going to try to get them off with my hands, but I can’t have you struggling.”

Draco nodded quickly. Harry gently pulled a cord until it was loose enough to slip over Draco’s head. His hands shook and he felt Draco’s gaze on him.

When the cords began to fall away, Draco sighed heavily. “Thank you. I thought I was going to _die_.”

Harry snorted. “You’ve always been so dramatic.”

“Death by Christmas decorations.” Their eyes met and they shared a laugh.

Falling silent, Harry focused on untwining the remaining lights, unsure of how to casually ask if Draco had opened up his first Christmas present. Harry felt the heat of him and heard his quiet breathing.

“Thank you for the cocoa, by the way,” Draco said softly.

“I’m glad you liked it. I remember you enjoying _Crowley’s Cocoa_.”

“It’s my favorite.” Draco kicked away the last cords and Vanished them with a wand flourish. “Speaking of which, do you want to do some marking with me? I could make us some tea or . . . cocoa.”

“In your office?” Harry had yet to see Draco’s rooms, despite working together for a few years. Inviting each other to their rooms seemed too _intimate_.

Draco frowned. “Unless you prefer the staffroom.”

“I don’t.” Harry had the strange urge to take Draco by the arm. Instead he clasped his hands behind his back. “Lead the way.”


	3. Snowshoeing

After a few hours of marking Harry went back to his rooms to have dinner alone. He enjoyed his time with Draco, truly he did, but it also made him restless, a little gloomy. It was torture sitting close to Draco without being able to touch him, and Harry had done it for _years_.

It’d been strange in the beginning, when Draco had first been hired, and Harry had only been a year into his tenure. They’d been young, so young that they thought they _knew_ things. He’d been disgruntled, a bit fearful, at the prospect of working side by side with _Malfoy_. He’d assumed the trauma of the war would get the best of them, that he’d run into Draco in the loo and remember him bleeding out on the stone floor.

But he’d been wrong. The Draco hired to teach Potions had not been the same person. He’d been quiet at first. When Harry tried to talk to him, his face was a blank mask, his answers practically whispered. It’d taken nearly a year to get Draco to open up to him, and when he finally did, Harry found him funny, intuitive, quite clever. 

Harry took another bite of his pasty, chewing absentmindedly. It was hard to pinpoint when he developed feelings for Draco, but he remembered the first time he knew how _fucked_ he was.

It was Christmas time during their third year working together. Harry was helping Draco search the snowy floor of the Forbidden Forest for rare Potion ingredients. A storm had recently dumped a record amount of snow, and Harry’d suggested they wear snowshoes to trudge across the castle grounds. Draco had laughed himself silly when Harry emerged from a rusty garden shed with two pairs of snowshoes tucked under his arms.

“They look like flippers,” Draco said, his cheeks pink from the cold. “Muggles are _hilarious_.”

Everything had gone all right until Draco made a wrong step and fell into one of Hagrid’s hidden traps. They were deep in the forest, and Harry initially thought the worst: Some nasty creature below ground was trying to yank Draco to his death.

“Hold on!” Harry said, running with his wand drawn. “I got you!”

Draco clawed at some frozen shrubs, huffing a laugh. “No—it’s all right. I just fell into this sodding hole.”

Trembling, Harry helped pull him free. He tried to get Draco to stand, but Draco cried out and clutched at his side. 

“I think part of the trap nicked me.”

Without thinking, Harry tore off Draco’s robes, then his shirt, to examine his injury. Blood smeared his vest top.

“Cast a bloody Hot Air Charm,” Draco said, his teeth chattering.

“Right.” Harry’s mind was whirling. He was afraid to lift up Draco’s vest. He cast the charm, then took a deep breath and carefully pushed up the fabric to his chest. 

_Malfoy has pink nipples_ , he thought. His gaze drifted down to the injury. He gasped. There was a lot of blood.

“Hit me with a few healing spells,” Malfoy said. “I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know . . . maybe we should take you to Pomfrey.”

“Merlin! I’ll just do it myself.” Draco reached for his wand and stifled a gasp.

“No—I’ll do it. Don’t move.” Harry put a hand on his bare stomach, which was cold and trembled with each breath. Harry gulped. He had to fucking focus. 

It took a few attempts, but Harry was able to heal Draco’s side. He cleaned away the remaining blood.

“It’s not perfect, but at least the cut is closed,” Harry said. “You should still visit Pomfrey when we get back.”

Draco was staring at him. Harry’s hand still rested on his bare stomach. Strange emotion flickered across Draco’s features, and to this day, Harry didn’t know if it was anger or fear or lust.

Harry snatched his hand away, embarrassed. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Yeah,” Draco said, not meeting his eyes.

The memory made Harry cover his face. Christ! He’d been such a _fool_. He thought about the advent calendar back in his office. He was going to utterly embarrass himself this month.


	4. Christmas Market

It was the weekend, and Draco finally had time to escape to Diagon Alley for some Christmas shopping.

Snow fluttered in the air, dampening his neck, melting in his hair. He took a deep breath, and felt a tension leave his body. He could always breathe easier when he left Hogwarts. He didn’t have to be mindful of students. He didn’t have to be on the lookout for Harry, even though he was _always_ looking for Harry.

The street was bustling with holiday shoppers, which Draco liked because he could disappear among the numbers. People had mostly stopped harassing former Death Eaters in public, but Draco knew he could never be too careful.

He wanted to just stop by his favorite teashop for a warm cup and an apricot bun, but he knew he couldn’t dawdle. He couldn’t leave here without a gift for Harry, even if he had no idea what to get him.

He wandered into a small bookshop, knowing Harry wasn’t much of a reader. He found the Quidditch section and dragged his fingers along the glossy spines absently. He didn’t know why he was trying. There was no way he could beat Harry’s _twenty five_ gifts.

Oh, Harry. He smiled softly and remembered Harry leaning over his grading, the firelight licking at his face. He'd glanced up at Draco and smiled a little, his eyes _twinkling_.

Merlin, Draco had it bad.

He straightened up and sneered. _Stop it._ Once again he was being ridiculous. Once again he was letting Harry get the best of him.

He picked up a book about Quidditch at Hogwarts. He flipped to the Table of Contents, and sure enough, Harry had his own chapter. Draco snorted. _Of course_ Harry had his own chapter, even though he'd never gone pro or played the game publically since his school years. 

Sometimes he really hated himself for being in love with Harry Potter. He winced. No, he wasn’t _in love_ with Harry. He just wanted to ride him until his eyes rolled up. He wanted to wake up next to him, his hair a crazy nest, his beautiful mouth—

_Stop_. Draco closed his eyes. Merlin, when had he become such a sodding _girl_?

He put down the book and left the bookshop. Up ahead was some sort of tabletop sale, but Christmas-themed. Draco hesitated. He himself would hate to get anything secondhand, but Harry would probably love something threadbare and ancient.

He browsed the first couple of tables before spotting a Christmas frame charmed to flash through a handful of photographs. It was of red wood with delicately painted garland looping the edges. He worried his lip, thinking. Would giving Harry photographs of them be too much?

He wished it wasn’t like this. He wished he fancied someone who didn’t come with so much bloody baggage. Their past felt like a physical barrier. It felt like something almost impenetrable. He was pretty sure there was a mutual attraction, but . . . there was also a hesitation, a moment of _Do I trust you now?_

The problem was that he didn’t know if he trusted Harry. He didn’t even know if he _wanted_ to trust him.

Shaking his head, Draco paid for the frame and headed for _Quality Quidditch Supplies_. He might have his doubts about pursuing Harry, but at least Draco could get him a nice broom servicing kit.


	5. Holly

When Draco arrived back at Hogwarts, he carried a small number of Christmas gifts for Harry that he thought were quite good. He went to his rooms to do some wrapping, but the portrait outside his door had a message from Harry.

“The legendary Harry Potter would like to see you in his office,” said Medeia, who’d been one of the “good” vampires during the twelfth century vampire revolts. Draco always thought lady vampires had to be sultry, but Medeia was battle worn in dented armor and muddy boots. She looked a bit like his dead Aunt Bellatrix, if Bellatrix had been ran over by a gaggle of giants.

“Please stop calling him that,” Draco said, sneering.

She sneered back. Her fangs were bloodstained. “The renowned, _mythical_ Harry—”

“All right, I get it.” He flapped his hand at her. “Balls of holly. Now let me into my rooms.”

She snorted. “It’s not _balls_ of holly.”

“That’s what you said when you changed the password!”

“It’s not!” She threw her head back and laughed. 

He glared. “Are you going to let me into my rooms or not?”

“It depends.” She examined her filthy nails. “I want another night off.”

“Absolutely not! I will not have that buffoon guarding my rooms again!”

“Oh, come on, Sir Cadogan isn’t _that_ bad.” She paused. “What if I found someone else?”

“Fine! Now let me in!”

“Okay, but it’s _boughs_ of holly, you clot.” 

Draco went inside to put down his purchases, then he headed to Harry’s office, where he rapped at the door with his knuckles.

Harry turned, and gave him a big smile. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and Draco struggled to not stare.

“Come in! I’m glad you could stop by!”

Draco wandered inside, not really knowing what he should do with himself. He perched on the chair for students, resting his hands on his knees awkwardly.

The office was decorated in holly and berries, and Draco couldn’t help sneering.

“What’s wrong?” Harry said, hesitating.

“No, it’s just Medeia giving me shite again.”

“Oh.” Harry laughed a little and rubbed the back of his neck. “I just wanted to make sure you got your next gift.”

Draco smiled. “I’ve already used the charmed quill and scroll. I like how it follows me around.”

“Good! I thought it would be helpful when you are making potions and . . . stuff.” Harry Summoned a little gift wrapped in green paper. Draco grabbed it from the air and opened it.

Inside was a . . . photograph frame, but striped in Slytherin colors. Draco laughed loudly.

Frowning, Harry said, “What? You don’t like it?”

“No! I like it.” Draco took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “Perhaps I will put a photo of us in it.”

Harry gaped. “You would?”

“Of course,” Draco said, staring into his eyes.

Harry seemed to catch his breath. “Draco—”

“Hello? Anyone in here?” Millicent spotted them from the doorway. “Oh, good. I’ve been meaning to talk to both of you.”


	6. Snowstorm

Harry sucked in a frustrated breath. “It’s nice to see you, Millie.”

Millie hesitated, glancing between them. “Did I interrupt anything?”

Harry huffed a laugh that said _hell yes you did!_ Draco closed his eyes briefly, refusing to be embarrassed. When he opened them, he found Millie smirking at him. He glared a little.

“So!” She rubbed her hands together. “What are you lads up to today?”

“Just some marking,” Harry said, sighing. “How’s Muggle Studies?”

She shrugged. “Not as exciting as Defense against the Dark Arts, I’m sure. And you, Draco? Brewing anything interesting?”

“No, I went to Diagon Alley to get some Christmas shopping done.” He didn’t look at Harry.

“Cool!” She smiled, but on her hard features, it looked condescending. “What are you lot up to this Friday?”

Harry glanced at Draco. “Not sure . . . didn’t have much planned.” Draco shrugged.

“Then it sounds like you will be at my Christmas party!”

“For the staff?” Harry asked.

“Some. Not all. I’ve reserved a room here, though.”

Draco frowned. “You’re only inviting some of the professors? How are you getting away with that?”

“Okay, so yes, I have to invite everyone, but I know only a few will actually show!”

Draco groaned, imagining spending a Friday night with Trelawney. “ _Fine._ But there better be loads of free booze.”

She grinned. “Oh, there will be.” She glanced at Harry. “There will also be fun, _adult_ games.”

A loud rumble came from the corridor. They all frowned. 

“Did a student set off another Dungbomb?” Harry asked.

“No idea,” Draco said vaguely. He went to the door to peek outside, and gasped. “There’s a bloody blizzard out here!”

A harsh, snowy wind blew down the corridor, uplifting rugs, upending the portraits on the walls. Draco shielded his face. 

Harry and Millie rushed to the door with their wands drawn.

“Merlin! I need to get Minerva!” Millie said, and disappeared down the corridor. Draco tried to call out to her, but his voice was lost in the storm.

Harry clutched Draco’s shoulder. “ _Look._ ”

Coming toward them was some sort of snow tornado, eating up everything in its path. Draco stilled. He didn’t understand what he was seeing. At the other end of the corridor, a giant tapestry crashed to the ground, then was sucked toward the tornado. 

Harry grabbed Draco by his sleeve and pulled him back into the office. He slammed the door shut, breathing heavily.

“Is the door going to hold?” Draco asked.

“Good point.” Harry cast a protection spell, which made the wood glow faintly. Horrible crashes and howling wind came from outside. 

Draco crossed his arms to comfort himself. “What should we do?”

“I guess just wait it out? I’ll cast a Patronus for Minerva and see if we get a response. Do you think Millie will be all right?”

“Yes, she's smart enough to find shelter.” He took a deep breath, determined not to worry too much. “Want to do something fun to pass the time?”

Harry was in the middle of casting _Expecto Patronum_. He stumbled over the spell and blushed. “Um. What do you have in mind?”

Draco rolled his eyes. He was in no mood for Harry’s cute fumbling. “I want to shag. _Obviously_.”

“Ha ha,” Harry said, recovering easily. “Want to play some chess?”

“All right.”

Harry cast the Patronus, then Summoned his chessboard. They sometimes played chess after finishing their marking.

They were distracted during the game, which made the pawns quickly lose patience and give them rude gestures when ordered to move.

The noise outside died down after a while. They paused their game to open the door hesitantly. Snow blocked the doorway, towering higher than they were tall. 

“What do we do now?” Draco asked.


	7. Crazy Decorations

“Perhaps we can blast our way to the Great Hall.” Harry poked his wand into the snow, which made some come crashing down on his head. He exclaimed and tried to wipe most of it from his neck.

“Let me,” Draco said, and put his hands on Harry’s back to steady him. The heat of Harry seeped through his shirt. He ran his wand down his back, spelling the snow away. 

“Thanks.” Harry’s voice was rough. He cleared his throat. “Given the situation, I think we should just head to my rooms to wait for Minerva or Millie to contact us.”

Draco gulped. “Your rooms?”

Harry turned to face him and smiled shyly. “Yeah, I lucked out. There’s a secret passage that connects my office to my rooms.”

“Your rooms are that close and you’ve never invited me?” Draco couldn’t disguise the hurt in his voice.

“Oh . . . I had no idea you wanted to see my rooms.” Harry blushed a little.

“I would’ve appreciated the offer!” Draco circled the room in an attempt to spot the secret door. “Where is it?”

“Behind my desk.” Harry glanced worriedly at the towering snow before closing the door. He went behind his desk and tapped his wand against a small painting of a lily, which made the white petals flutter. The section of the wall snapped free, revealing a dark passage.

“You lucky bastard! My rooms and office are on entirely different levels!” Draco rushed forward. “How long is the walk?”

Harry grinned. “Just a few moments.” He held open the door and Draco brushed by.

The corridor was damp, a few flurries of snow sneaking inside. They turned a corner and Harry tapped his wand against a seemingly random piece of wall. The stone melted away to reveal a cozy sitting area that had fairy lights and red ribbons hanging from the ceiling.

“Uh . . .” Draco tried not to laugh.

“Yeah . . . I should’ve warned you that I let Luna decorate for Christmas.” Harry flopped down on the sofa.

Draco hesitated, not knowing if he should join Harry. The sofa was pretty small. “What else did she decorate?”

“She’s the one who picked out my tree.” He motioned to the blinking fir in the corner next to his fireplace. “It sings Christmas songs and I’m pretty sure something lives inside the branches.”

“Merlin.” Draco whistled quietly. 

“Would you like to sit down?” Harry patted the cushion.

“Oh, I guess.” Draco sat down next to him. He made sure to remain a good hand's length away. Harry’s proximity made his skin tingle.

Harry draped an arm behind Draco’s head. “I’m not sure how long we’ll be here. It could be a few hours or . . . days.”

“Days!” Draco rubbed his temples. “I can’t be stuck here for _days_! I have things to do!”

“Like what?” Harry said, grinning.

“Oh, I don’t know . . . _my job_?”

Harry flapped his hand. “The world won’t end if we can’t hold class on Monday.” He bumped his shoulder into Draco’s. “I hope you don’t mind spending some time with me.”

“Of course I don’t mind!” Draco wanted to throw his arms up in exasperation. “But we’re wizards! There has to be something we can do!”

“Yes, there’s loads of things we could do.” Harry pressed closer. “But I kinda just want to wait here with you.”

Draco gulped.


	8. Christmas Cookies

Draco looked almost _scared_.

Harry felt his smile freeze. “Unless you had other plans . . .”

“We’re snowed in! Of course I had other plans!” Draco said.

“Oh.” Harry’s stomach dropped. He stared down at his hands. “I didn’t mean to assume anything.”

Draco touched his arm. “Harry.”

“No, it’s okay.” Still Harry was unable to look at him.

“I didn’t mean to offend you.” Draco took a deep breath. “I _do_ want to spend time with you. I just don’t like that we’re imprisoned by snow.”

Harry snorted. “ _Imprisoned by snow._ ” He mustered the courage to look at Draco. “Minerva will probably reach out to us any minute now.” He stood and stretched a bit. “I’ll make some tea while we wait.”

“Okay,” Draco said, frowning. 

Harry went to his kitchen to put on the kettle. He rested his head against the cabinet. Christ. He really mucked that up. He’d been trying to casually show that he was attracted to Draco, but he just ended up frightening him!

Sighing, he directed a big scoop of tea leaves into his chipped teapot, then had the kettle pour in the boiling water. He grabbed two mugs and had the teapot follow him back into his lounge. 

He paused. Draco had stretched out on the sofa, his chest moving gently in sleep. Harry set down the mugs and teapot. He meant to wake Draco, but he was reluctant to disturb him. Harry could watch him without fear of being caught. 

_Don’t be weird_ , Harry thought, and leaned down to touch Draco on the shoulder.

“Mmm?” Draco’s eyes were unfocused. “Sorry . . . I guess I’m more tired than I thought. The fire is nice.” He tried to sit up but Harry held him down.

“No, don’t move. You can kip for a while. I don’t mind.”

“Ta,” Draco said, and slumped back down.

Harry couldn’t help it. He _needed_ to touch Draco. He smoothed a few strands of his hair from his forehead, his skin oh so warm. 

“That feels good,” Draco said sleepily. 

Harry stepped back, afraid Draco was too tired to tell him to stop. He went to the kitchen, completely forgetting about the tea. He was shaking. Draco was _asleep_ on his sofa. His hair had been so soft. Harry covered his face. God. He just wanted to go back in there and wake Draco up his mouth. He wanted to sink to his knees and undo his trousers with his teeth, his tongue stroking, lapping, as Draco slowly woke up.

 _Stop it_. That would be a terrible thing to do to his friend. Draco didn’t even want to be in his rooms! He wanted to be free, away from Harry. He was a busy man and he had very little time for Harry! 

Harry turned in place, searching for something to distract himself. He spotted the biscuit mix that Luna gave him. Yes, that’s what he would do. He would make Christmas biscuits and even decorate them with the barmy sprinkles and sugary icing that Luna had also included. He Summoned the butter and flour, then got to work.


	9. Nutcracker

When Draco finally woke up, the biscuits were made and cooled enough to ice. Harry was battling a biscuit in the shape of a nutcracker that kept shrieking whenever he got close with the icing knife.

“Please, no!” the biscuit shrieked.

“The icing is honesty the least of your worries,” Harry said.

“What’s this about?” Draco said with a yawn.

“Just icing some biscuits.” Harry smiled over his shoulder.

Draco came closer. “Who thought it was a good idea to Charm the biscuits?”

“Luna. She thought I needed to be more festive.”

Draco picked up an angel biscuit that giggled and blew him a kiss. “How devilish of her.”

“Yeah, I suppose so.” Harry felt the sleepy heat of Draco. He handed Draco a knife. “Want to help me ice?”

“Doubt I have much of a choice.” Draco scooped up some blue icing and smirked at the angel. “Prepare yourself.”

“ _Drench_ me, Daddy,” the angel said. “Just watch out for my eyes.”

Harry laughed so hard he dropped the nutcracker, shattering its little body. “Oops.”

“Quick! Eat it before anyone sees,” Draco said.

“No, me first!” the angel purred. 

They fell into an agreeable silence as they iced the rest of the biscuits. Draco ate every other biscuit he decorated, his pink tongue licking at the sugar caught on his lips.

Harry stared. He wanted to kiss Draco’s lips clean.

Draco blushed. “What? Is it all over my face?”

“No . . . you’re just distracting.” _Stop talking._

Draco cast his eyes down. “Oh?”

“Yes,” Harry whispered. Slowly, he touched Draco’s neck, then drew his hands up to brush his thumbs over Draco’s cheeks. He couldn’t _breathe_. He _ached_. “Draco, I’m sorry, I just have—”

“Do it,” Draco breathed.

Harry leaned closer, his heart pounding. God, this was the moment. It was finally going to happen—

“Pardon me, sir.”

Harry closed his eyes. He exhaled loudly. “Yes?”

“I have a message from the Headmistress.”

He turned and discovered Medeia lounging in his painting of a stormy moor.

“Merlin’s pants!” Draco said. “What in the bloody hell do you want?”

Medeia rolled her eyes. “Can’t you hear? I said I have a message from the Headmistress.”

“Let’s have it then,” Harry said, trying hard not to grit his teeth. Damn her for interrupting them!

“Headmistress McGonagall says she will send help when she needs you. She says that Professor Bulstrode is safe and all the students have been accounted for. She says stay where you are and don’t try to be the hero.”

Draco snorted and looked at Harry. “That last bit is for you.”

“Understood?” Medeia said. They nodded. “Good. Tap this painting with your wand if you need me.” 

“Thank you,” Harry said. When she left, he took a deep breath and turned back to Draco. All of his courage had disappeared.

Draco dipped his finger in some icing and smeared it on his mouth. “Silly me. Now I need your help getting it off.”

Harry’s eyes sank half-closed. “Oh, Draco.”


	10. Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And finally some smut! :D

Harry advanced on him.

“Wait a second.” Draco Levitated a mistletoe biscuit to hang above their heads, red and green sprinkles falling in his hair. “There. Now you can kiss me.”

Trembling, Harry placed his hand on Draco’s hip and hauled him closer. Draco laughed lowly. 

Harry searched his face for any ridicule. He knew Draco wasn’t cruel enough to taunt him like this, but after _years_ of waiting, it was hard to ignore his fear.

Draco’s pupils were blown wide, his breath coming hard. He leaned forward, hesitating. He kissed Harry, and his lips were sweet, warm, so incredibly soft.

Harry moaned and wrapped his arms around him. He deepened the kiss, tasting the biscuits Draco had eaten, their tongues brushing together. 

“Fuck,” Draco whispered. “I had no idea good lads could kiss like this.”

“I’m not a good lad,” Harry muttered. He mouthed down to Draco’s neck, sucking and biting his pulse point. Draco squirmed, clutching at Harry’s upper arms, moaning desperately.

“Yes—you are.” Draco was panting. “Merlin—are we really going to do this?”

“Please.” Harry captured his lips in another kiss. “I’ve waited for so long.”

“Me too,” Draco whispered.

Harry’s hands roamed down his back, skimming over his arse. He couldn’t get enough. Draco tasted amazing, and his delicious cologne filled Harry’s nose. Harry wanted so much more.

“God, I’ve wanted you since you fell into that stupid hole,” Harry said.

Draco laughed again. “I’ve wanted you since Madam Malkin's.”

“No way!” Harry laughed too. “You loathed me during school.”

“I did.” Draco kissed his cheek. “But I also wanted to shag you.”

“God.” Harry knew he was repeating himself, but his mind had stalled, and all he wanted was to kiss Draco, to feel his bare skin. He grabbed Draco’s warm hand and pulled him back to the sofa in the lounge.

Draco pressed closer, sneaking his fingers under Harry’s t-shirt, his breath hitching when Harry nibbled on his neck again. Harry peppered his face with kisses, loving the grit of his chin. He was wearing thick robes, and Harry pulled at the buttons, wanting to see his pink nipples again.

Laughing, Draco pulled away to shoulder off his robes, revealing the crisp white shirt underneath.

“Your ponce clothes,” Harry said, now yanking at his expensive buttons. 

Draco stilled his hands, then deftly unbuttoned his shirt. He wore a vest top and Harry groaned in frustration.

“So many damn layers!” Harry pushed up his vest to _finally_ touch his bare skin. His stomach was warm and taut, with delicate blond hair traveling from his navel to his waistband. He brushed his thumbs over Draco’s nipples. “Your pretty fucking tits.”

“Pretty? They aren’t _pretty_.”

Harry mouthed up his stomach to lap at one of the little nubs. Draco sucked in breath. 

“Yes, they are,” he said, muffled. 

Draco carded his fingers through Harry’s hair. “Your hair is so soft,” he said, his voice full of wonder. 

Harry laughed and turned his attention to the other nub, licking and nibbling, one hand caressing Draco’s side, the other splayed on his trembling thigh. Finally he could just _touch_. He brushed his knuckles against Draco’s growing cock, the fabric of his trousers strained, so incredibly warm. Draco hissed, his head falling back on the cushion, his hips jerking.

“More, Harry,” he whispered.

 _Yes_ , Harry thought, free of any fear. He would think about the consequences later, but right now he was going to touch Draco’s cock.


	11. Three Wise Men

Harry unbuttoned Draco’s trousers, then sneaked his fingers inside to caress the line of his cock through his pants. Draco moaned and tried to thrust against Harry’s hand. He knew Draco was desperate for more, but he also didn’t know if he would get this chance again, so he would take his time to explore Draco, learn his responses, learn what drove him mad with lust.

“I bet your cock is just as pretty as your nipples.” Harry sucked hard on Draco’s neck, loving that he would leave a mark.

“Only one way to find out,” Draco moaned.

Harry sat back to get a good look at him. Draco’s elegant robes were bunched around his waist, his shirt and vest pushed up above his perk nipples. Draco shoved down his trousers to mid-thigh, which made the image even better. His eager cock was on display, pressing against the tight cotton of his pants. God, Harry had done that to him.

He took Draco’s hand to nuzzle and lick his palm. Then he sucked each finger into his mouth, tasting the sugar of the icing and the salt of his skin. Draco gasped and moaned, and his other hand trailed down to press and massage his cock.

“Don’t touch yourself,” Harry said, his voice rough. He took Draco’s hand away and threaded their fingers together. They held hands as he licked and gnawed Draco’s wrist, then kissed up his arm to nibble at his neck again.

“You’re killing me,” Draco whispered.

“How charming,” sneered someone behind them.

Harry closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. He didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. “Sod off, Snape. We’re busy here.”

“Oh, I’m not alone,” Snape said, sounding entirely too delighted. 

“I don’t care if Merlin himself is here! _Go away!_ ” Draco said.

“We have another message from the Headmistress, unfortunately,” said another person.

Damnit. Harry knew that voice as well. He turned around and startled. Snape, Lupin, and _Dumbledore_ were seated at a table that usually held a group of poker playing Crups. The painting had been a gag gift from Ron, and it was alarming to see all three of them in there.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Dumbledore said calmly, “but Professor McGonagall needs your help.”

“Now?!” Draco said. “She hasn’t needed our assistance for hours!”

“We understand the timing is . . . not the best,” Lupin said, flushing a little.

Draco huffed and buttoned up his trousers and shirt. Harry watched sadly.

“There was a delay while the other professors tracked down the proper spell to remove all the snow,” Dumbledore said. “Professor Longbottom suggested using just an ordinary blasting spell, but they quickly realized that technique created far too much slush.”

“Yes, the whole castle has been turned into some sort of Winter Wonderland,” Lupin said.

“By one of Weasley's idiotic joke spells, no doubt,” Snape added. 

“Yes, the rest of the staff needs your help containing this . . . wintery problem.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled.

“Oh, all right,” Harry said, annoyed.


	12. Reindeer

Draco couldn’t believe their terrible luck. He usually didn’t mind Snape’s portrait, but right now he glared as he righted his robes and smoothed his hair.

“What’s this spell then?” he asked, hoping he sounded like a prat. He was having a hard time looking at Harry. 

“ _Evanescet Nix_ ,” Dumbledore said mysteriously. 

“Noted,” Draco said, not looking at Dumbledore either. The portrait had tried to talk to him about that fatal night in the Astronomy Tower ten years ago, but Draco had refused. He was still too overwhelmed with guilt.

“The wand movements might be a bit tricky,” Lupin said. “It’s a downward swish, clockwise, then a flick and a twist. Your wrist needs to be as relaxed as possible.”

 _Harry should be flicking and twisting something else_ , Draco thought moodily.

“Like this?” Harry followed Lupin’s directions and a few sparks erupted from the end of his wand. 

“Looks like you got it,” Lupin said, smiling gently.

Snape rolled his eyes. “Yes, quite remarkable. Get this boy a trophy.” 

“Shut it, Severus,” Lupin said, which made Snape smirked again.

Harry moved closer to brush his hand against Draco’s arse. “Ready?”

Draco stifled a moan, his cock still throbbing a little. “I suppose.”

“Young love! How wonderful!” Dumbledore chirped. “You know, it reminds me of Gellert and myself—”

“So sorry, must dash,” Harry said loudly.

They opened the front door, and once again faced a wall of pure snow. “Here goes nothing,” Harry said, and cast the spell. The snow disappeared in a flash, which made Draco confident. He strolled into the corridor, spelling a footpath for them.

The stone walls were splattered with snow, the suits of armor looking like ice sculptures. Slush wet their shoes and the end of Draco’s robes. Sneering, he attempted to dry his clothes while subduing all the snow.

“Hold on.” Harry grabbed his shoulder.

Draco tingled from the touch. “What?”

“Do you hear that?”

“No?” Draco glanced around worriedly.

“Something’s coming . . .”

They rounded a corner and stumbled on a reindeer chomping on a Persian rug. Its brown fur was dusted with snow and it barely looked in their direction.

“That’s a strange sight,” Harry muttered, his eyes bright from the cold. 

“Stranger than Firenze teaching Divination?” Draco said.

Harry smiled a little. “Good point.” He moved closer. “Can I kiss you quickly?”

Draco huffed. “Only a peck. I can’t have you distracting me.”

“I’ll take it.” Harry brushed some of his fringe behind his ear, then cupped his cheek, his thumb brushing over his cold skin. His gaze was so incredibly green. He kissed Draco gently, his lips warm and inviting. Draco gasped and tried to deepen the kiss, but Harry stepped back, smirking. “Remember, Minerva is waiting for us.”

“I finally get it,” Draco said, ignoring his arousal. “You set this whole thing up to torture me. You’re probably the one who set off that snow tornado.”

Harry wiggled his eyebrows and cackled. “You’ve figured out my evil plan.”


	13. Snow Angels

Draco rolled his eyes and stalked down the corridor. When Harry wasn’t looking, he Summoned a handful of snow and dropped it down Harry’s back.

“Argh!” Harry yelled, trying to scoop most of it from his shirt. His teeth chattered. “So c-cold!”

Now it was Draco’s turn to cackle. He winked and blew Harry a kiss. “That’s for having so many damn portraits in your rooms.”

“How was I supposed to know that Minerva would mainly use them to communicate with me? You _berk_.”

Draco clutched at his chest. “How dare you!”

“Would you rather be called _wanker_?”

Draco smiled seductively. “You know it.” This made Harry blink at him, which gave him time to drop a large ball of snow on Harry’s head. 

“Damn you!” Harry shrieked. He lunged for Draco.

Scurrying away, Draco yelled over his shoulder, “Dream on, Potter! You’ll never catch me!”

Harry chased after him. When he caught Draco, they toppled into the snow, laughing breathlessly. Draco stilled, suddenly very aware that Harry was on top of him, warm and solid. He threaded his fingers in Harry’s hair and kissed him, moaning softly. He wished they were back in Harry’s rooms, back when they had the privacy to ravish each other. He rolled his hips, causing Harry to gasp.

“God,” Harry said.

“I want you,” Draco said, snogging him again. Their lips moved together warmly.

“God,” Harry repeated, and Draco rolled his hips again, wanting to torture him.

“Nobody’s around,” he muttered. “Can’t you feel how much I want you?”

“Just—maybe—” Harry reached down, trying to cup Draco through his trousers.

“Oh, no, we can’t do anything now,” Draco said, smirking. “We have a job to do.” He nipped at Harry’s chin, then scrambled out from under him. He stood and straightened his robes, dusting off the snow.

“You’re cruel, very cruel,” Harry said, climbing to his feet too. “Come on then. Let’s check on the Great Hall.”

On the ground it looked like they’d made a snow angel in the snow. Draco wished it looked like they’d done something much naughtier. 

They made their way to the Great Hall, which was filled with students playing in the snow. Draco frowned. Minerva had made it sound like some sort of _emergency_ , but everyone seemed relaxed and safe.

Minerva approached. “Sorry to bother you both. We needed all hands on deck to clear the corridors for students.” A snowball zoomed past her head. “They can’t stay here all night.”

“And the tornado?” Harry asked. “What damage are we facing?”

“We aren’t sure. Professor Bulstrode informed me that it was quite the storm, but it will take some time to understand the full scope of the destruction.”

Harry sighed. “I will clear the corridors to the Gryffindor common room.” 

“Yes, I will do the same for Slytherins,” Draco said.

Minerva nodded. “Sounds good. Let me know if there are any difficulties.”

Draco headed for the Slytherins, but Harry grabbed his arm. 

“Can I come to your rooms later?”

Draco hesitated. “I’ll come to yours.”

Grinning, Harry said, “I look forward to it.”


	14. Winter Wonderland

Harry examined his reflection one last time. He sighed, and tried not to be nervous. Everything was fine. Perfect. Just another ordinary night with Draco.

He snorted. It definitely wasn’t just an ordinary night with Draco. They weren’t going to spend it marking and playing chess . . . at least they better not. He would go mental if Draco tried to sidestep his advances again.

Smiling, he remembered their mutual teasing from earlier that day. God. He didn’t think he would ever be that comfortable with Draco to tease him sexually like that . . . but he supposed he shouldn’t be too surprised. They’d become quite close in the past couple of years, and it was expected that their friendship would spill over into their . . . messing around.

He carded his fingers through his unruly hair one last time, then shrugged. Oh, well. There was never any use in trying to tame the monstrosity on his head.

In his lounge he spelled on the wireless, which was playing the Muggle song “Winter Wonderland.” He had to admit that Muggles definitely made better music than wizards and witches.

There was a knock on his door. He opened it with a flick of his wand. “Please come in!” His voice trembled a little.

Draco appeared through the doorway. He wasn’t wearing robes. He was only in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and tight grey trousers. Harry salivated. 

“Would you like some wine?” Harry asked.

“Yes. Please.” Draco glanced away.

Harry took Draco’s hand and dragged him to his room, a bottle of wine and two goblets trailing behind them. He swished on the candles and fireplace in his room, and Draco paused, gazing around.

“Red and gold, really?”

Harry shrugged. “Did you expect anything else?”

Draco smirked a little. “No, not really.”

He pressed Draco against the door, kissing him deeply. His hands were frantic, roaming over Draco’s long back. They landed on his firm arse, kneading, squeezing. He’d been staring at the thing for years and finally he could touch.

Draco moaned and bucked against him. “What about the wine?”

“Later.” Harry dragged him to his bed. “I have to shag you before we’re interrupted by ghosts or some other rubbish.”

Draco laughed breathlessly. “Better yet, the castle _itself_ stonewalling us. _Don’t dooooo it. The Headmistress needssss your help._ ”

Harry chuckled. “Have you always been this funny or am I laughing just because I want to fuck you?”

“I’ve always been comic gold. _You_ just weren’t paying attention.”

“Well, I’m paying attention now,” he muttered, and focused on removing Draco’s clothes. He couldn’t hide the shaking of his hands.

Draco stretched out before him, starkers, the firelight licking at his pale skin. He was beautiful, utterly beautiful. Amazed, Harry trailed his fingers along his warm stomach, down to his dusted thighs. 

“What?” Draco asked, his eyes uncertain.

“You’re just so . . . _blond_ ,” Harry said.

Draco bit his lip. “And do you fancy blonds?”

“Fuck, yes,” Harry said, and mouthed down his stomach to his cock, which was dripping and waiting for him. He ran his finger up the shaft, feeling it twitch. “God, you’re desperate for me, aren’t you?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Draco said, squirming. “I’ve been desperate for so long.”

Harry kissed his thighs and bit his hips; he opened his mouth to his pubic hair and breathed in his scent.

“Merlin . . . please,” Draco panted.

“Love hearing you beg.” Harry stroked Draco, unable to look away from his fist sliding over Draco’s rosy, stiff flesh. He sucked his cock into his mouth, moaning at the sensation and the taste. God, he was velvety and warm against his tongue.

Draco cried out and writhed, his hands fisting the bedding. “Harry, oh _Harry_.” 

Harry took him down as far as he could, slurping, tonguing. He bobbed slowly at first, tasting, getting to know Draco’s flavor and shape, then quickened his head, wanting to make Draco lose control.

He couldn’t believe this was happening. He was sucking _Draco Malfoy’s_ cock; the same person who’d taunted and attacked him during school, who was almost Dumbledore’s murderer, who had grown into a gorgeous, gorgeous bloke.

Pre-come flooded his mouth, which made him moan and suck harder. He massaged Draco’s bollocks, feeling their tension, weighing them in his palm. He wished he could see Draco’s face, but he imagined his pupils blown-wide, his sexy mouth plump and gapping. 

He sneaked an index finger between Draco’s cheeks to caress his arsehole. Draco cried out and shook, his hips jerking uncontrollably. Harry relaxed his mouth, doing his best to take Draco’s thrusts.

_Come for me_ , Harry thought, his eyes fluttering. _Fill my mouth._

“Harry—I’m not going—” Draco sounded like he was begging, like Harry held his life in his hands. He groaned deeply, spurting in Harry’s mouth, dripping down his chin.

Harry ground the heel of his palm into his own cock, trying to ease some of his own desperate need. He released Draco with one last suckle, then captured his lips in another heated kiss. Draco panted into his mouth. 

“Merlin,” Draco said, laughing lowly. “You utter beast.”

“Everything you hoped?”

Draco licked away some of his own semen from Harry’s mouth. “Fuck yes.”


	15. Christmas Play

Draco found it deeply arousing to taste himself on Harry’s mouth. He kissed Harry, almost desperately, wanting to convey everything he couldn’t put into words.

He was in love with Harry. He was absolutely, utterly, in love with the silly Gryffindor, and there wasn’t a single thing he could do about it. 

Harry moaned and tipped his head back, letting Draco control the kiss. Merlin, he tasted awful, but it also made Draco’s cock stir a little. Fuck. He’d practically _choked_ Harry with his come.

Nibbling on Harry’s lips, Draco brushed his thumbs over his cheeks. “What do you want?” he murmured.

“Everything,” Harry breathed.

“That’s quite brave of you,” Draco said. “I could want to do some ghastly things to you.”

Harry smiled. “I’m a Gryffindor, after all.”

“And a stupid, trusting fool.”

“That too.” Harry dragged his mouth up and down Draco’s neck. “Aren’t you glad that I trust you?”

Draco moaned. “Of course, but you also have the nasty habit of putting yourself in danger.”

“Says the bloke who was attacked by fairy lights.” Harry laughed.

“Shush you.” Draco crawled into his lap and pushed him back against the pillows. Harry groaned and thrust up.

“God, I like this,” Harry said.

Draco ground a little, feeling how hard Harry was for him. “I want to play with you.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” He stretched out and rested his arms under his head. “Do your worst. _I dare you._ ”

“Challenge accepted.” Draco Summoned his wand and Vanished Harry’s clothes, which made Harry yelp.

“Hey! I liked those!”

Draco pressed his wand to Harry’s lips. “Shush. No talking.” He dragged his wand down Harry’s neck and through the sparse dark hair on his chest, rotating over his nipples and down to his navel. He tried to Conjure some ropes, but candy cane ribbon sprung from his wand. “What the hell?”

Harry groaned. “Luna. She must’ve Charmed my rooms when she was decorating.”

“I think I like these better,” Draco said, smirking. He swished his wand and the ribbon tied Harry’s wrists to the bedpost. 

“Oh,” Harry whispered, testing their hold. His cheeks reddened.

“I know just the thing to go with the ribbons.” Draco Conjured an antler headband with little tinkling bells.

“No,” Harry said, alarmed. “Don’t you dare.”

“Oh, I dare.” Draco shook with laughter. He placed the headband on Harry’s head. “What a perfect sight.”

“I think I’m losing my stiffy,” Harry said.

Draco took their cocks into his hand, stroking them together. Harry threw his head back, moaning.

“God, never mind,” Harry panted.

“Your fucking cock,” Draco muttered, thrusting into his fist, shivering at the sensation of rubbing against Harry. “I always wondered what it would look like.”

“Always?”

“ _Always._ ” Draco kissed him sloppily, again wanting to convey the overwhelming emotion inside him. Being with Harry just felt _right_ , but it also terrified him. Harry meant so much more to him than some quick shag in the toilet. He just hoped that Harry felt the same way.


	16. Stranded Away from Home

Draco was already too close, so he released their cocks and slid down Harry’s body.

“Oh, God,” Harry gasped.

Draco licked up his shaft, then did it again and again. Harry cursed and writhed, his arms fighting their constraints, the antlers jingling. Draco took the head of his cock into his mouth, sucking lightly.

“Stop teasing me!” Harry said.

Releasing his cock, Draco said, “Never.” He sucked each bollock into his mouth, tonguing, slurping. Then he was sucking his cock back into his mouth, bobbing his head quickly. His brain flat lined, and all he was aware of was Harry’s moans and stuttered pleas.

“Fuck—fuck—” Harry chanted.

Draco relaxed his throat and took Harry as deep as possible, loving when his breathing was cut off. He bet Harry’s eyes were rolling into the back of his head. He wanted _more_. He kissed up Harry’s trembling stomach, then nuzzled and sucked at his sweat-slicked neck.

“Draco,” Harry moaned.

“Yes?” He sounded delighted.

“I need . . .”

Nibbling at Harry’s lips, Draco repeated, “Yes? Tell me.”

Harry was stuttering. “I—I—”

“I can't give you what you want if you don’t tell me.” Draco smirked.

Harry took a deep breath. “I want to fuck you.”

“Not so fast.” Draco kissed his cheek, then dragged a hand down to stroke his cock. “We should take it slow.”

“ _Slow?_ ” Harry snorted. His desperate need was written all over his flushed face. “We’ve been taking it slow for years!”

“That doesn’t count.” Draco quickened his stroking, making Harry hiss. “But I’m willing to compromise.”

“C-compromise?”

Draco Conjured lots of oily lube. He let it drip over their cocks, then smeared a good handful between his own cheeks.

“Bloody hell,” Harry said, catching on what he was doing. “Yes . . . I want to feel you . . .”

Draco straddled him to rock on his slick cock. He rocked and rocked, loving how Harry slid against his bollocks, his cockhead moving closer and closer to his arsehole.

“Want to feel you between my cheeks,” Draco moaned.

Harry yanked at the ribbons. “I can only do it with your help.”

“You got that right,” Draco said, laughing hotly. He reached back and situated Harry in a way that allowed him to thrust up and _between_.

“Oh, God, _yes_ ,” Harry said, trembling even more. He thrust and thrust, his cock sliding over Draco’s arsehole, faster and faster. Draco stroked himself, his bollocks growing tight, a white buzz filling his head.

“I’m gonna—I’m—” Harry cried out, his eyes twisted closed, as his come wet Draco’s cheeks. 

Draco followed soon, his fist a blur over his cock, his thighs quivering. He splattered Harry’s stomach, and he fucking _loved_ it.

When they calmed down, Draco released Harry’s wrists and slumped forward to rest on his chest. He left the antlers on Harry’s head.

“You’re lying in your own mess,” Harry murmured.

“How are your wrists?”

“Good, I think.”

Draco kissed his wrists gently, thankfully. “I could stay like this forever.”

“Hmm. That sounds nice.” Harry pulled him closer and pressed a kiss to his temple. With his wand, he cleaned them up and turned on the wireless in the lounge. A song about a bloke stranded away from home on Christmas trickled into the bedroom.

“Is this Muggle?” Draco asked.

Harry stiffened a little. “Yes . . . do you care?”

“Not at all.” Draco would like any music he listened to with Harry.


	17. Parade

After snoozing for a while, Harry threw on some warm clothes and left his rooms to examine the closest corridors. It was quite late, and Draco was still asleep in bed, but Harry was restless and a bit embarrassed that he’d paid little attention to this random _indoor_ snowstorm. It was nothing to shrug off. Students could’ve died. 

The corridor outside his rooms was a disaster. The snow had been cleared away, but the ancient tapestries and priceless paintings were water-logged and scattered.

“A quick drying spell should do the trick,” said a monk in a painting of a medieval monastery.

“Are you sure?” Harry asked. He didn’t know if they needed to bring in a specialist to restore the art.

“Yes, yes!” The monk flapped his hand.

“All right.” Harry cast a drying spell on the painting, then hung it back on the wall with a sticking charm. He scrutinized his work, looking for any remaining water spots.

“Thank you, good sir!”

He turned his attention to the other paintings. While he worked, he pondered what exactly could’ve happened. Everyone seemed to think it was one of George’s joke spells gone amuck, which seemed plausible, but they still didn’t know _who_ cast the spell.

As he dried and stuck the enormous tapestries back on the walls, he thought of ways the staff could track down the culprit. They could try figuring out where the storm began, then somehow figure out which students had been present . . . or they could question all the students who’d been caught with banned Weasley products so far that year. He groaned and rubbed at his forehead. All of it would depend on students confessing . . . and they would just have to hope that their initial assumptions were right too.

Sometimes he really wished Hermione could just solve things for him, like she used to do when they were children. He shook his head. Bless her.

He rounded the corner and found the suits of armor and a few statues encased in ice. They were slowly melting, which made for a treacherous walk down the corridor. He Vanished all the puddles on the ground, then focused on Vanishing the ice on the armor and statues. The suits of armor nodded to him gratefully. 

Draco was probably still asleep. He’d looked so damn cute curled up under his duvet, his hair tousled from shagging. Harry ached. Thinking about Draco made him breathless, more than a little frightened. He just wanted _so much_ , and he didn’t want to alarm Draco. Sometimes he couldn’t help thinking of them as fire and ice. He was all fire, and Draco was cool, distant, never burning with desperate need.

 _Except in the bedroom_ , Harry thought, smirking. He was thrilled that he got Draco to squirm and chant his name, but he could also see Draco running away because of the depth of Harry’s feelings.

“The shagging is nice,” Draco would say, “but let’s keep whatever is happening between us casual, friendly. I do like being your mate, Harry.”

Harry scowled. It seemed like every bloke just wanted to be his _mate_. Sighing, he headed back to his rooms. It was true that most of his romantic relationships had ended with the other person getting cold feet. He understood why. It was hard being the boyfriend of _Harry Potter_. He sighed again. This thing with Draco was probably not going to work out. Draco was the same person who’d stomped on his face, who’d hated everything about the Boy Who Lived. If anyone was going to be overwhelmed by Harry’s notoriety, it would be him.

He wandered into his lounge. His Christmas tree rustled and growled, but he paid it no attention. There was movement in his kitchen. He found Draco nibbling on a snowman biscuit and parading about in only socks and Harry’s t-shirt. Harry leaned against the doorframe, utterly entranced.

Draco spotted him. “Merlin! Knock or something!” The snowman gave one last cry before he gobbled him up.

“Look at you,” Harry said, already a little turned on. Draco sauntered closer, his soft cock bobbing. Harry’s mouth went dry. He pulled Draco against him, his hands slipping down to knead Draco’s warm cheeks. He wanted to rub his fingers against his pink hole. He wanted to drop to his knees and open Draco with his wet tongue. 

Draco gasped into Harry’s neck. “I should go.”

Harry’s heart sank. He knew this was coming. “Whatever you need to do.”

“I want to stay but . . .” Draco kissed and licked his neck.

“I understand,” Harry said, trying very hard not to get too riled up. He released Draco and stepped back. He looked vaguely in Draco’s direction. “It was a lot of fun.”

“Yes,” Draco said quietly. He dropped his hands down to cover himself up. “I will just go get dressed now.”

 _Must you?_ Harry wanted to say, but he nodded and sat down at his kitchen table. A few minutes later Draco reappeared.

“I’ll be going now,” he said. 

Harry was unable to read his expression. “Okay.”

Draco hesitated. “This was nice.”

“Yes, it was.” Harry tried not to flinch. Draco thought it was only _nice_.

“Well . . . goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Draco left and Harry slumped forward, groaning. He _hated_ love.


	18. Candy Canes

The next couple of days were hectic for the Hogwarts staff. Draco was swamped with marking and cleaning up the mess left by the snowstorm. They kept finding places that had been overlooked, and now the melted snow had made ponds of classrooms and cupboards. 

Draco was also very distracted by whatever was happening between him and Harry. They were awkward with each other, and Draco didn’t understand why. He’d expected Harry to pull him into alcoves to snog him senseless, to send messages full of innuendo through Medeia, but none of that happened. And, to top it off, Draco now woke up to his daily Christmas gift from Harry waiting for him on his coffee table. It was obvious that Harry didn’t want to see him, which was barmy, and rude, and made Draco want to _throw things_.

At the moment Draco was in his office fighting back the mountain of marking on his desk. He held Harry’s gift for that day in his hand. Did he really want to continue opening these things when Harry was acting like an utter prat? He sighed, and began tearing at the wrapping. Curiosity would always get the best of him.

Inside the metallic green wrapping was a box of candy canes. Draco frowned, a little disappointed. In terms of Christmas gifts, candy canes were just above fruitcakes. 

There was a knock on his door. “Come in!” Draco said.

Elindor, a third year, peeked her head inside. “Professor Malfoy? Can I talk to you?”

“Yes, come in,” he said, gesturing to an open chair.

She sat awkwardly in front of his desk. 

“Does this have anything to do with your marks in my class?”

“No,” she said quietly. She stared at her hands and didn’t say anything for a moment. “I have to tell you something but I’m afraid.”

This didn’t sound good at all. He smoothed out his features. “Before you continue, I must tell you that I can’t keep any of your secrets. Whatever you say to me will be reported to the Headmistress.”

She nodded grimly. “Yeah . . . that’s what I want.” She took a deep breath. “I know who . . .”

“Yes?”

“I’m trying to tell you without _telling you_. I reckon somebody might’ve cursed me to keep me quiet, and I don’t want to say too much.”

“ _Cursed you?_ ” Draco sat forward in his seat. “We must take you to the Headmistress immediately.”

“No! I don’t want that!” She jumped from her chair. “You know about all the weird stuff that happened recently? Ask the portraits about it! Especially the ones on the third level!” She raced from his office, slamming the door shut.

Draco stood, wanting to call her back. All the weird stuff . . . ? He blinked. She must’ve been talking about the snowstorm. He frowned. Why in the world would someone curse her to keep quiet about _that_? 

He tore open the box of candy canes and stuck one in his mouth, sucking absently. Ah. They were the kind that changed flavors. He sucked harder, and the lemon turned into strawberry.

Summoning parchment and quill, he wrote Minerva a quick note about meeting with her. After he sent it off, he scratched DICKHEAD on some fresh parchment and considered sending it to Harry. He burned it instead.


	19. Christmas Bonus

When Draco didn’t receive a response from Minerva, he headed for her office to speak to her. The gargoyle outside the staircase wore a jaunty Santa hat, which made Draco snort.

“Kitty litter,” Draco said, but the gargoyle shook its head.

“The Headmistress is out,” the gargoyle grumbled.

Draco made a frustrated sound. “Fine,” he said, and turned around to go back to his office. He remembered Elindor’s tip. There wouldn’t be any harm in asking around before he spoke to Minerva.

He went to the third level, trying his best to avoid students. It was exhausting to be around them all the time, to _always_ be Professor Malfoy. 

The first portrait he spoke to was a grizzly wizard with a nose like a rotting potato. 

“Do you know who’s responsible for the snowstorm that occurred in our corridors?”

“Oh, yes!” chirped the portrait. “I saw it all!”

Draco breathed a sigh of relief. “Brilliant. So who is responsible?”

“Peeves! He did it!”

“How?” 

“No idea! I just know he did it.”

Frowning, Draco said, “What do you—”

“There’s no sense in talking to him,” piped another portrait, which was a Victorian wizard holding a rat with glowing eyes. “Waldoro is a big liar.”

“I am not!” Waldoro gave the other portrait the two finger salute. 

“What’s going on here?” 

Draco turned toward the familiar voice, his heart pounding. Harry stood at the end of the corridor. He moved closer, but he didn’t really look at Draco.

“A student told me that the portraits on the third level knew who started the snowstorm,” Draco said.

“Oh. That’s relieving.” Harry grinned in Draco’s direction. “You deserve a Christmas bonus.”

“From you?” Draco mumbled.

Harry didn’t hear him. He leaned closer to get a good look at Waldoro. “You saw what happened?”

Draco huffed. “Supposedly we can’t trust him because he lies all the time.”

“No I don’t! It _was_ Peeves!” Waldoro said.

“He just hates Peeves. He would do anything to get rid of him,” said the Victorian.

Draco glared a little. “Then please enlighten us. What really happened?”

The Victorian smirked and caressed his rat. “Do you know Professor Trelawney is an absolute _gin bottle_?”


	20. Favorite Christmas Movie

“What?” Harry asked, blinking.

Draco rolled his eyes. Sod _all of this_. “Yes, we all know Trelawney is an alcoholic. Is she responsible for the snowstorm?”

“There were also two students present,” said the Victorian mysteriously. 

“And?” Draco huffed.

“What were their names?” Harry asked.

“Lucille Brunt and Quintina Ferdinand,” Waldoro said.

Harry stared at Waldoro. “I thought you were the liar?”

Draco wanted to make firewood of both these portraits. He took a deep breath. “I know those students. Are you saying that we need to question them?”

“Waldoro is incredibly vazey . . . most of the time,” said the Victorian, now nuzzling his rat.

“It wouldn’t hurt to have a word with their Prefects,” Harry said, and took out a coin from his pocket. He fiddled with the coin, then muttered, “They know to meet us on the third level. They should be here as soon as possible.”

Draco moved away from him. It hurt to look at Harry, and it was dumb, totally mad, that they were acting like strangers with each other. Perhaps he’d done something wrong, but he refused to examine every little detail from their night together. If Harry had a problem with Draco, he should just be a sodding adult about it and _tell him_. 

Three Prefects trudged down the corridor. “Professors? Is something wrong?” one of them said.

“Where is MacDonald?” Harry asked.

“He couldn’t make it. Still in the hospital wing.”

“Right.” Harry floundered for a moment. He turned to Draco. “Professor Malfoy, would you care to explain?”

“We need to speak to Lucille Brunt and Quintina Ferdinand,” he said, doing his best to keep all annoyance from his voice.

The Prefects paled. They glanced at each other.

“What?” Draco said.

“Well,” said Tiffley, a Slytherin Prefect, “we know where they are but . . . you’re not going to like it, sir.”

“Stop wasting my time and just say it,” Draco said.

Tiffley gulped. “There is a little . . . party happening in the dungeons.”

“A party?” Harry said. “Did they get permission for this?”

“No.” Tiffley stared down at the floor.

Draco couldn’t hide his anger. “Tell me why you knew about this but did nothing to stop it?” The Prefects didn’t response and avoided his hard gaze. “Twenty points from Slytherin and Hufflepuff. I will be speaking to the Headmistress about your failure.”

“Take us to this party,” Harry said sternly.

Slouching, the Prefects led them down several levels to the dungeons. Draco frowned when they stopped in front of a room that sometimes was used for Potions instruction.

Draco and Harry burst into the classroom, startling the group of students inside. They both had their wands out. The students were playing some type of running image with sound on the wall.

“What are you lot watching?” Harry asked.

Draco didn’t understand what he was seeing. There were singing puppets on the wall. He pointed his wand at them. “What in the world is this?”

“It’s a film,” Harry said.

“A _film_? Like a Muggle thing?”

“It’s _The Muppet Christmas Carol_!” piped Travie Culle, an excitable Hufflepuff.

Harry laughed, his eyes very bright. “I’ve seen this! It’s a classic!”

“How wonderful,” Draco said, grumpy. He addressed the students: “Turn it off please. We need to speak to Miss Brunt and Miss Ferdinand.”


	21. Christmas Caroling

Somebody turned off the moving images and sound. Draco scanned the group for Brunt and Ferdinand. When he spotted them, he crooked his finger at them and nodded outside. They looked very unhappy.

When in the corridor, Draco turned to them and said, “So, the third level.”

They frowned at him. “I don’t understand,” said Brunt.

Harry hesitated. “Err . . . we heard from a painting that you know what happened on the third level.”

“From a _painting_?” Brunt said.

Shrugging, Ferdinand said, “We don’t know anything about the third level.”

“You don’t know anything? Nothing at all?” Draco arched an eyebrow. The two students gulped. He dipped his fingers in some moisture on the wall. “You know, the snowstorm we had inside could’ve hurt a lot of people. It could’ve utterly ruined priceless wizarding relics.”

“Yes,” Harry said, catching on, “we aren’t looking to punish those responsible, we just want to know the truth.”

_Softie_ , Draco thought.

Ferdinand opened her mouth, but Brunt elbowed her. “Again, we don’t know anything,” Brunt said.

“I would appreciate it if you don’t speak for Miss Ferdinand,” Draco said to Brunt. He caught Harry’s eye, and Harry nodded. “Miss Ferdinand, can I speak to you alone for a moment?”

Ferdinand paled. “Yeah . . .”

“And Miss Brunt, we’ll just have a little chat as well,” Harry said.

Draco guided Ferdinand into another empty classroom. He coughed and swished his wand to clear some of the dust. He Summoned two chairs and they sat down.

“I didn’t know you could play those Muggle things here,” he said breezily. 

Ferdinand worried her mouth. “Yeah . . . you can if you buy this box from Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.”

“Ah,” Draco said, still not really understanding. “It tells a story, yes? What is your favorite part?”

She smiled a little. “It has to be all the Christmas caroling. There’s this cute little muppet that’s always trying to sing to Scrooge and it’s well . . . cute.” 

“Many think that it was a Weasley product that started the snowstorm,” he said, wanting to unbalance her.

Ferdinand nodded. She inhaled deeply and whispered, “Wild Wintery Wonders.”

“So you know about it.” Draco smiled gently.

“Yes.”

Draco became stern. He stared hard at Ferdinand. “Did this Weasley product start the snowstorm?”

Ferdinand flinched. “Kind of.”

“Explain please.”

Ferdinand burst into tears. “We didn’t mean for it to get so big!”

“You and Brunt?” Draco asked, and she nodded. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

“Professor Trelawney is our favorite,” Ferdinand said, sniffling.

“Yes? But what does this have to do with the snowstorm?” Draco frowned.

“She was having another . . . episode. We just wanted to distract the students in the corridor, but when we set off the Weasley spell . . . it was a monster . . . uncontrollable.” She shivered. “We had no idea how to stop it and we just wanted to get Professor Trelawney to safety, so we ran.”

“Why didn’t you tell someone immediately?” Draco thought: _Damn Trelawney!_

“Because we didn’t want Professor Trelawney to be sacked! We love her! She doesn’t deserve to lose her job. She just has a problem . . .”

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. “You also didn’t want to get blamed for starting the storm.” Ferdinand nodded, her shoulders shaking with her sobs. “And what about Elindor? Did you two threaten her?”

“We just wanted to scare her,” Ferdinand mumbled. “We didn’t _really_ curse her.”


	22. Yule Log

Christmas was fast approaching. It was a few days after Harry and Draco questioned Brunt and Ferdinand about the snowstorm, and Harry was at Hermione and Ron’s, _trying_ to enjoy a night away from the castle.

“What do you think Minerva will do about Trelawney?” Hermione licked at some chocolate icing from her fingers. They were attempting to make a Yule Log for Millie’s party.

“Dunno.” Harry was focused on drawing a proper bark pattern into the log with his wand. “I suppose she’ll need to be sacked.”

“Should’ve happened a long time ago,” Hermione said. She was piecing together little edible green leaves with red berries.

“Well, she does have her fans.” Harry dusted the log with cocoa powder. “But I can’t imagine the Board letting this one slide.”

“Hmm, do you think Minerva could . . . I don’t know . . . not tell them?”

Harry shook his head. “No way. Everybody in the castle now knows that Trelawney’s drunkenness made two students cast a very dangerous spell. They were given three months of detention, but I can’t imagine Trelawney getting away with just a slap on the wrist.”

Sighing, Hermione wiped her hands and said, “I’m sure I’ll heard about whatever Minerva decides at the party.” She smiled a little at Harry. “So . . . what’s the update with Draco?”

Harry froze. “What do you mean?” He didn’t like thinking about Draco at the moment.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “You finally made something happened between you two. I knew it the moment I saw you last.”

“Oh.” Harry avoided her gaze. “It’s nothing . . . we just . . . you know . . . shagged.”

“ _What_?” She threw a towel at him. “And you didn’t tell me!”

He put his hands up. “I didn’t feel much like sharing! I reckon it’s just made things awkward between us.”

She snorted. “No surprise there. It took you two _years_ to accept what everyone else could plainly see. Knowing you two, I can’t imagine the transition from friends to lovers would be smooth.”

“Wait, hold on. _Everyone_? What the hell do you mean?”

“Oh, Harry,” she said, shaking her head. “Let me guess. It’s awkward because both of you don’t know how to speak to one another and instead of assuming best intentions, you assume the worst.”

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it. He thought for a moment. “I’m not a moron, I promise.”

She laughed. “Nobody thinks you’re a moron. Given your shared past, it makes sense that beginning a relationship with Draco would be haphazard.”

“Yeah . . . but it really does seem like he doesn’t fancy me.” Harry coughed, not wanting to focus on how much this pained him.

“He wouldn’t have shagged you if he didn’t like you!”

“But he can’t even look at me! He doesn’t even talk to me!”

“Have you tried talking to him? Asking him over for a drink? Asking him to dinner?”

“Err . . . no.” Harry flushed a little. “I didn’t want to give him the opportunity to reject me! And I’ve been really busy lately. The snowstorm . . .”

“You could’ve asked him to dinner even in the aftermath of the storm.” She smiled and patted him on the arm. “It will be okay, I’m sure. Hopefully he comes to Millie’s party, then you two can talk there.”

“In front of everyone?”

“Yep. We’ll Conjure you up a stage and everything.” She laughed. He grinned weakly.


	23. Wrapping Christmas Presents

That Friday Harry showed up to Millie’ party with Hermione and Ron. It was held in a hidden room on the fourth level, and the live band could be heard out in the corridor.

Neville and George were there; so was old Flitwick and Madam Pomfrey, and unbelievably Trelawney. Hermione elbowed him and hissed in his ear: “Why is she being allowed to drink?”

Harry shrugged, too concerned about facing Draco to care about anything else.

There was a gift wrapping station, with Sprout and Minerva demonstrating their excellent magical wrapping skills. Ribbon, bows, and paper twirled in the air, then with a flick of their wands, wrapped around gift boxes with speed and gracefulness.

As Harry weaved around chatting professors and friends, he felt himself go cold with anxiety. He knew he had to speak to Draco tonight, if Draco even showed, and the thought of approaching him made sweat break out on Harry’s forehead.

The Slytherins were gathered in a corner, snorting and cackling like Slytherins do. Pansy looked especially sparkly with tinsel intertwined in her hair. Draco was standing between Blaise and Greg. He wore beautiful silver robes and held a flute of champagne. He immediately looked at Harry as if he could sense his presence. Staring into Draco’s eyes made Harry _ache_.

“Go talk to him,” Hermione whispered to Harry. “Don’t overthink it.”

“Ha,” he responded, “I’ve never overthought something in my life.”

Hermione snorted and gave him a little push. “ _Go_.” 

Heart pounding, Harry approached the group of Slytherins. He refused to be intimidated.

Draco’s expression flickered when he spotted Harry coming closer. 

Pansy smirked and drew Blaise and Greg away. “Good luck,” she muttered to Harry.

“Err . . . hi,” Harry said.

“Hello.” Draco’s gaze was very guarded. 

Fuck! Why was everything so muddled between them? It was only last week that he had Draco starkers in his bed. He would do anything to fix this.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said abruptly.

Draco frowned. “For what?”

Hesitating, Harry said, “Err . . . for being a wanker?”

Draco laughed loudly, showing all his teeth. Relief flooded his face. “I thought you hated me.”

“No!” Harry’s mind whirled. He grabbed Draco and hauled him out to the corridor, ignoring Hermione and Pansy’s matching smirks. 

They found an empty alcove and Harry crowded Draco against the wall. “God, you—”

“What are you doing?” Draco whispered.

“I just—need to touch you.” Harry ran his hands over Draco’s chest, down to his arse. “I know I’ve mucked it all up. It’s always easier to put up barriers, to push people away, instead of being vulnerable.”

“You’ve been pushing me away?” Draco was barely audible, his eyes wide. “Why?”

_Because I love you_ , Harry wanted to say. He shook his head. “Because the way you make me feel scares me . . . you make me feel so much and I . . . I don’t want to be hurt.” He’d never been so honest with a lover before, and it was unbelievable that he was doing it with _Malfoy_. 

“Merlin.” Draco clutched at him. “ _Merlin._ ” He kissed Harry deeply, desperately, his lips trembling. “Take me back to your rooms.”

“We can’t,” Harry said. “Let’s wait until after the party.”

Draco groaned.


	24. Family Dinner

They headed back to the party, but Harry paused just outside the door. He pulled at some of his hair, thinking, unable to read his emotions.

“So . . . what happens in there?” Harry asked.

“In the party?” Draco looked at him, questioning.

“Yeah . . . do we stay away from each other? Or do we hold hands and other stuff?”

Draco gulped visibly. “What about something in between? I . . . don’t think I’m ready for the other professors to . . . you know.”

“Yes.” Harry took a deep breath. He was relieved but also a little sad. He kissed Draco again, his hands sliding over the sleek material of his robes. Draco was warm and _real_ , and Harry wanted to drop to his knees right there. 

“S-stop,” Draco whispered against his mouth. “You wanted to go back to party, so that’s what we’ll do. I don’t need you to also torture me.”

“I let you tie me up.” Harry mouthed over his neck, his tongue dipping behind his ear. “Don’t you think I deserve a little fun?”

Draco stifled a moan. He stepped back. “Later. Come on.”

They went back inside and discovered everyone sitting at an elongated dinner table. The tablecloth sparkled with snow and sugared plums, and crystal centerpieces held lush red roses and white lilies. Fairies flew above heads, throwing red and green confetti that disappeared before landing in anyone’s hair. 

Hermione and Pansy waved them over. “We saved you lovebirds seats!” Pansy yelled.

“For fuck’s sake, Pans,” Draco hissed as they sat down. Draco peered around suspiciously, but no one seemed to have heard.

Ron grinned sheepishly at Harry. “Hermione told me. I gotta say, I liked the last bloke better.”

“Jealous, Weasley?” Draco purred.

Ron blushed. “No!”

Three kinds of roasts appeared on the silver dinner plates. There was also mashed potatoes, parsnips, and buttered Brussels sprouts. Harry poured some gravy on his roast and potatoes, and dug in. 

Under the table, Draco trailed his fingers over Harry’s thigh. Harry glanced at him but he was engaged in a serious conversation with Hermione about the recent mermaid riots. 

Millie stood and tapped her wand against her glass. When everyone quieted down, she said, “Thank you for being here tonight. I definitely consider this my family dinner.” She teared up a bit but continued on. “Merry Christmas, everyone!”

The guests clapped, some even whistled drunkenly. Blaise gave her a standing ovation, which made her flush and throw a plum at his head.

“I don’t think the mermaid council should face charges,” Draco said, engaging Hermione in conversation once again. His fingers caressed up the inside of Harry’s thigh, trailing over his groin.

Harry did his best not to visibly react. “Which Christmas match are you looking forward to?” he asked Ron.

“Tough,” Ron said through a mouthful of potatoes. “My Cannons aren’t playing, so I don’t have much of a stake.”

“I DON’T HAVE A PROBLEM!” 

The chattering stopped. Everyone turned their heads to see who was yelling.

“Sybil, please,” Minerva said. 

Trelawney stood shakily, knocking over her empty champagne flute. “I won’t allow you to speak to me like this. I’ve got rights!” Her words slurred a little.

“And we have a commitment to our students!” Minerva insisted. She stood as well. “Let’s go up to my office to speak more about this.”

“No!” Trelawney stumbled to the door. She piped over her shoulder, “I’m leaving! I know when I’m unwanted!”

Sprout stood to go after her, but Minerva grabbed her arm. “Don’t,” Minerva said. “That woman will never leave.”

A little while later dessert appeared on the table, including Harry and Hermione’s Yule Log.

“That looks delicious,” Draco said, and rested his hand on Harry’s clothed cock. Even through his dress robes, the touch was overwhelming.

“Have some cake, then we’ll go,” Harry said, gritting his teeth.

Draco ground his palm. “All right.”

Hermione served them some slices. Harry struggled not to watch Draco’s lips wrap around each chocolatey bite.

“Mmm, this is fantastic,” Draco said, licking the corner of his mouth. His hand moved oh so slowly on Harry.

“Thanks!” Hermione was flushed from the champagne. “Harry helped me make it. I thought his bark pattern came out great.”

Draco inspected the exterior of the quickly disappearing cake. “Yes, it looks like a real log.”

Harry’s smile was strained. “I’m pretty much an expert.” Ron laughed, blowing chocolate bits everywhere. Hermione hiccupped and tried to wipe at his mouth.

Guests began to trickle out, and the band spent more time eating pudding than actually playing. Millie and Pansy slow danced even when no music was heard.

Draco drained his flute and smiled at Harry. “Ready?”

“Hell yes,” Harry said. 

They said goodbye to Hermione and Ron, who were snuggling. Ron whispered in her ear and she giggled and hid her face. They waved to Blaise and Greg, who seemed to be the only sober bunch in the room.

“He has a dragon-hide fetish!” Blaise called to Harry.

Draco rolled his eyes. “At least I don’t want to shag my mum!”

“I called her attractive once! Once!” Blaise said.

In the corridor Harry found the same alcove and pushed Draco up against the wall. He kissed Draco deeply, tasting the chocolate and cream of the cake. He kneaded Draco’s arse and pulled him closer. They rocked together, and he felt Draco getting hard.

“I’m going to take you back to my rooms,” Harry whispered. “Get you undressed. See your delicious bare skin again. Then I’m going to prepare you with my mouth. Open you up. Lick and lick until you’re _begging_ me to fuck you.”

“No way you can get me to beg,” Draco said.

Harry thrust a little. “You wanna bet?” 

Draco moaned.


	25. Christmas Pudding

If Harry was being honest, he would admit that Draco had always been wrapped up in his budding attraction to men. There’d always been _something_ about the Slytherin that made Harry watch him, think of him, seek to know more and more.

Maybe it was his eyes. He used to think them cold, empty, but now he knew how they could flare, how they twinkled when Draco laughed. 

He used to think Draco too stuffy, too cruel, too _pale_ to be attractive. He used to imagine Draco smelling of dust, chalky powder, room temperature milk.

But he didn’t smell like any of those things. He smelled brilliant . . . his cologne clean, dark, intoxicating. His skin was pliable, so very warm. He was made of rushing blood and a beating heart, and just the knowledge that he was more than an adversary, that he was human and vulnerable, made Harry lose his _fucking mind_.

They were in Harry’s bedroom. Harry had him pressed against a bedpost, but it was awkward and made them both unbalanced. Draco tore at Harry’s clothes, whimpering into his mouth, his nails catching on Harry’s skin.

_Slow down_ , Harry thought, but he couldn’t. It felt like it’d taken a lifetime for them to get here, and Harry was desperate to command, to _own_.

“Harry,” Draco whispered.

Harry pushed him onto the bed, then crawled over him. Together they got Draco’s robes off, then his underthings, as Harry kissed his lips, his cheek. He sunk his teeth into Draco’s shoulder, not really understanding why he had the urge. Draco gasped and squirmed, his stiffy rubbing against Harry’s thigh.

“Clothes off.” Draco yanked at his robes, and Harry leaned back to tear at his buttons, his hands trembling. There was just so much pent up energy and emotion in him. His mind whirled.

He got his robes and shirt off, but he ran out of patience and only pulled down his trousers and pants to mid-thigh. He rutted against Draco, their cocks sliding together. Draco cried out, submitting, his arms slipping under the pillows.

“God,” Harry said, and kissed him deeply. He held down Draco’s wrists, his tongue rough, their teeth clicking together. Draco whimpered into his mouth, and Harry swallowed it, devoured it, wanting to choke the sound from Draco.

Harry flipped him on his stomach. He spread Draco’s cheeks to peek at his pink hole. God, oh God, it was raw, a little swollen, like Draco had been fucked recently. 

“Your hole has been used,” Harry said, not recognizing his own voice.

“Merlin,” Draco moaned, pushing back into Harry’s hands. “I had no idea it would be like this.”

_Me either_ , Harry thought. He spanked Draco’s cheek. He wanted to say something ridiculous like, _Your arse is mine_. Instead he kneaded Draco roughly and said, “Did you think of me when you fucked yourself?”

“Who knew you could be so toppy,” Draco said, huffing a laugh.

Harry spanked him again. “Answer me.”

Draco shot him a look over his shoulder. “Make me.”

“With pleasure.” Harry licked hotly at Draco. He let saliva fill his mouth, then drip down his tongue, as he lapped and lapped. Draco moaned, his head dropping to the pillows, his shoulders and spine going liquid.

Harry drilled into him, loving when he felt his hole opening up. It took some time, but he wiggled his tongue inside Draco, massaging. Draco was warm, musky, and Harry could feel the blood rushing under his skin. His bollocks were very red; Harry dipped lower to take each one into his mouth.

Draco panted and writhed, muttering curses.

“Yes?” Harry asked.

“Give me your fingers.”

“Did you think of me when you fucked yourself?” Harry smirked.

“Yes, _of course_.” Draco pushed back insistently. “Now, give me your fucking fingers.”

Harry was drunk off the power. “Just my fingers?”

“No, you tosser,” Draco gritted out.

Harry laughed and cast a lube spell. He penetrated Draco with a finger, his breath catching. God, Draco was so fucking warm and tight.

“More. I’m already stretched.”

He added a second finger, then a third. Draco hissed and tried to fuck himself on Harry’s hand. Harry got the message and thrust in earnest, his fingers curling, searching. When he brushed over Draco’s prostate, Draco cried out and shook.

“F-fuck me,” Draco said.

“I thought that’s what I was doing.”

“Y-you know what I mean!”

Gulping, Harry cast another lube spell, then pushed into Draco slowly. When he bottomed out, he had to clutch at Draco’s hips and close his eyes. Fuck. Fuck. If he wasn’t careful, Draco was going to make him come too quickly.

Draco squeezed around his cock. “ _Move._ ”

Harry tightened his hold on Draco’s hips and began to thrust. He went slowly at first, trying to concentrate, hang on, but it was too difficult. The suction of Draco’s arse made his mind flatline, his whole being narrowed down to fucking deeper, harder. He sped up, their flesh smacking together, and he knew Draco’s cock hung hard, dripping, ready to spill its load. 

“Touch yourself,” Harry gasped. His orgasm was coming on fast, his bollocks so very tight. Pleasure licked down his thighs, his vision blurred.

“Come inside me,” Draco said, tugging himself. “I want you to drip from my arse.”

“Draco!” Harry came hard, his chest going hot, his cock so fucking stiff. He wanted to fuck Draco for the rest of his life. He wanted to eat his come from his arse. He wanted to snuggle him, kiss him tenderly. He wanted to fucking _worship_ him.

When Harry came down, he really didn’t know where he was. He pulled out of Draco gently and helped him roll over to his back. Draco was still hard, his cock red and desperate. He massaged his bollocks as Draco tugged himself to completion, his neck straining, his teeth bared in effort. Draco came staring into Harry’s eyes. 

Harry was half-asleep. He pulled Draco close and cleaned them up. He whispered, “Spend Christmas with me. Come to the Burrow. Molly makes a great Christmas pudding.”

Draco was still breathing heavily. “You’re mad. Utterly mad.”

“Please say yes.”

“Yes,” Draco said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those who celebrate: Merry Christmas!


	26. Boxing Day Shopping

Harry always loved the Burrow on Christmas. He loved Molly ruling over the kitchen and the wireless, and the succulent puddings and roasts that came from her toil.

He loved Arthur and his obsession with Muggle fairy lights. Tonight he battled with entangled loops in front of the fire, a goblet of eggnog floating at his shoulder. 

Bill and Charlie played chess, and George dazzled the children with his joke spells. In a corner Percy and Hermione debated Ministry regulations, both quite red from wine. On the sofa Ron and Harry talked Quidditch and ate and drank more than they had all year.

As the hours clicked by, Harry did his best not to watch the front door. Draco had promised to come after spending some time with his own family, but Harry would understand if he didn’t show. It could be intimidating to face a room full of Weasleys. He imagined having to show up at Malfoy Manor and put on a friendly smile in front of Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. He shivered.

“You reckon Malfoy will show?” Ron asked, knowing why Harry’d fallen silent. 

Harry shrugged. “Dunno. Do _you_ think he’s going to show?” He wanted Ron to just say yes.

Ron eyed him. “Maybe, but I wouldn’t take it personally if he doesn’t. You know how families can be.” 

_Don’t take it personally?_ Harry snorted and took a deep drink from his eggnog. The whiskey burned his throat.

He did his best not to think about the last time he was with Draco. He flushed a little. God, he really had been inside Draco. He’d really done all those toppy things. He refused to be embarrassed about any of it; Draco had definitely enjoyed himself, and Harry had been driven by honest and powerful feelings.

“Oh, wonderful!” Molly said when Celestina Warbeck came on the wireless. She wiped her hands and went over to Arthur. “Put down your lights and dance with me!”

Arthur wore the lights like a scarf around his neck and took Molly by the hand and waist. George wolf-whistled and Charlie cheered so hard he spilled his ale. Fleur rolled her eyes and took little Victoire into the kitchen for some cake. 

“Maybe he has to . . . I dunno . . . plan something,” Ron said awkwardly. 

“Plan what?” Harry asked, smiling. He appreciated Ron trying, he really did.

“Maybe . . . he plans to shop tomorrow. Go fight with all the Muggles over the sales.”

Harry imagined Draco Boxing Day shopping, and laughed. He’d probably end up elbowing a nan or something.

“Sorry to break it to you, but I don’t think he’s into shopping with Muggles,” Harry said.

Shrugging, Ron said, “Who is? I doubt even the Muggles like it.”

There was a knock on the door, and Harry caught his breath. He got up to answer it, ignoring how everyone watched him.

On the other side of the door was Draco, holding an armful of gifts, his cheeks flushed from the cold. There was snow in his hair.

“Hi,” he said almost shyly.

“Hi,” Harry responded, grinning so hard his face hurt. “Come in here before you freeze.”


	27. Egg Nog

Draco hesitated only a second before stepping inside. His heart was thumping, and he knew his smile looked forced.

“Hello,” he said to the quiet room. Everyone was staring at him like they couldn’t really believe their eyes.

“Mr Malfoy!” Arthur Weasley said, approaching Draco and Harry. He pulled Draco’s hand into an enthusiastic handshake. “I’m thrilled you could make it!”

“You can call me Draco, sir.”

Weasley winked. “Then you must call me Arthur.”

“Let’s go into the kitchen to get you sorted,” Harry said, his face flushed. He took Draco gently by the elbow and directed him to the right.

In the kitchen was the half-Veela woman who’d married Bill Weasley and their little girl. The woman saw Draco, and her eyes widened.

“Oh, ‘arry,” she said. “You brought your boyfriend.”

Draco felt his own cheeks warm. Harry was spluttering. “Yes, he did,” Draco said, smirking, but not daring to look at Harry. 

“I’ll just put these here for a moment,” Draco said, setting down all his gifts on the kitchen table. Harry hovered, obviously not really knowing what to do with himself.

“Would you like some egg nog?” Harry clutched at his arms. “We also have wine and ale.”

“Egg nog would be perfect,” Draco said. He laughed. “I didn’t really know what to bring. I had the elves wrap a lot of general things. I hope people will appreciate wine.”

“They’ll love it,” Harry said, “but I wouldn’t mention the thing about the elves.”

“Right.” Frowning, Draco took the offered egg nog. He was more than a little nervous. “I don’t want to . . . mess this up.”

Harry put his arm around him and kissed his temple fondly. “You’re not going to mess this up.”

Draco turned his face toward him, smelling his skin, wanting desperately to kiss his lips. “I guess.”

There was a cough. “We will just be ‘oing,” Fleur said, and left with the little girl.

“Thank God,” Harry said, and pulled Draco against him. They kissed deeply, and Harry tasted like sweet whiskey. Draco moaned a little.

“I also have your gifts,” Draco whispered.

“I hope it’s you starkers, perhaps tied up.” Harry laughed lowly. 

“That’s later.” He pulled back some. “I hope you like them . . . you did so much with the advent calendar . . .”

“You mean I was desperate enough to buy you twenty-five gifts.”

Draco kissed him softly. “I like that you were desperate for me.”

“Still am,” Harry murmured. His hands dropped down to massage Draco’s arse. “God, last time was good . . . so good.”

“You were a beast.” He smacked Harry playfully on the arm. “Who knew you had it in you.”

Harry laughed, but looked at Draco closely. “You liked it, right?”

“Merlin.” Draco framed his face and licked into his mouth, tasting him. “Bloody _yes_.” They kissed for a bit, then he said, “You should open your gifts before we go out there.”

“No, later,” Harry breathed. “Unless you don’t want to spend the night with me.”

“Stop being ridiculous.” Draco nibbled on his lip. “Of course I want to spend the night with you.”

“All right.” Harry grinned, and his eyes were lovely, just lovely. “We’ll spend some time here, then I’ll take you home.”

“And then what?”

“Then you get your last Christmas gift.” Harry’s hand brushed against Draco’s groin.

Draco sucked in a breath.


	28. Log Cabin

They went back to the lounge; Draco felt like he was entering the lion’s den. He caught sight of a few Gryffindor jumpers, and thought, _Literally the lion’s den_.

“Did you bring gifts?” Mrs Weasley cooed. She glanced beyond his shoulder into the kitchen.

“Yes,” Draco said, trying not to be so awkward. “I hope everyone likes them. I wasn’t sure what to get.”

“I’m sure we’ll love them, dear.” She took him by the arm and had him sit in a cushiony chair by the fire. “Are you hungry? I see you have egg nog. That’s very good. It’s a family recipe . . . an heirloom, if you will.”

“Thank you. It’s delicious.” He looked to Harry, and found his eyes twinkling. It almost seemed like he would tear up. 

Draco turned away. Gazing at Harry was too much at the moment. The lounge reminded him of a cozy log cabin. This was what the Gryffindor common room must look like. Even though he’d been teaching at Hogwarts for years, he’d yet to see it. The furniture was comfortable but well-used. There were many scuffs and tears—nothing like the cold stiffness of the Slytherin common room.

George pulled up a chair beside him. “I can’t believe you’re teaching Potions now.”

“Oh?” Draco’s voice remained pleasant. “Why’s that?”

Shrugging, George said, “I honestly can imagine only Snape teaching Potions.” He quieted a burp with his hand. “He was a tosser, but Fred and I learned most of our tricks from him.”

“Tricks?”

“Yeah . . . all our products rely heavily on Potions. I dunno if we would’ve been able to start our business if he hadn’t been such a demanding bat in the classroom.”

Draco snorted. “You should visit his portrait sometime. I’m sure he’d _love_ to hear that.”

George shivered. “Uh no.”

A hand rested on Draco’s shoulder. It was Ginny Weasley. “Can I have a word?” she asked.

“Sure.” He rested his egg nog on a table and followed into an adjacent hallway. She turned to face him and crossed her arms. 

“So, you are dating Harry.” Her expression was hard.

“Yes.” He didn’t flinch.

She squinted at him. She was quite buff and nearly as tall as Draco. There was a reason why she was so successful at Quidditch; she gave off a strong “don’t fuck with me” vibe. 

“I trust Harry’s judgment, but I care very deeply about him,” she said, grinding her teeth. “Do you understand?”

“Not really.” He cocked his head. “Is this you telling me you still have feelings for him or are you trying to be like a protective big sister?”

“The last one.”

“Okay. Then does it make you feel better if I say that I’m absolutely mad for him?”

She didn’t smile. “Yes.”

“You’re absolutely mad for me?” Harry said from the doorway.

Draco reddened. He turned slightly to Harry. “Yes,” he said quietly. 

“Brilliant.” Harry moved closer to them. He winked at Ginny. “ _Down, girl_.”

She rolled her eyes but there was also a grin on her face. “All right, I know I’m being a bit ridiculous.”

“Just a bit?” Draco asked.

Arching an eyebrow, she said, “Just know that you’ll have to answer to me if you break his heart.”

Draco held up his hands. “I wouldn’t dare. I still remember your nasty Bat-Bogey Hex.”

“Let’s all go back to the party,” Harry said. “Draco, are you up for some chess? Bill is quite interested in challenging you to a match.”

“That sounds fantastic,” Draco responded, even if he was still unsure about spending time with the Weasleys.


	29. Gift Return

After a few games with Bill Weasley and another thorough debate with Hermione about mermaid rights, Draco was ready to venture back to Hogwarts. He glanced at Harry hopefully.

Stifling a yawn, Harry said, “Well, it’s been fun, but I think it’s time for Draco and me to head out.”

Ron thought this was incredibly funny. He was also very pissed. Hermione’s eyes glittered. “Yes,” she said. “It’s time for us to head out as well.”

Mrs Weasley took Draco by the arm. “Thank you for stopping by, dear. If you come next year, I will be sure to make a jumper for you.”

Draco felt the blood drain from his face. “That sounds lovely.” He squeezed her hand. “I do hope you enjoy your gift, but I’ll understand if you want to return it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it!” She smiled fondly.

They waved goodbye to the rest of the guests. Harry whispered in his ear: “Could you Apparate us to the gates? Not sure if I have the . . . focus.”

Draco laughed. He smelled the whiskey on Harry. “Yes, you drunkard.” Harry kissed his cheek, and Draco hid his blush from Ron and Hermione.

Outside the Burrow, Draco pulled Harry close. “Ready?” he asked lowly. Harry sucked in a breath and nodded. A moment later they Disapparated. 

They reappeared outside the Hogwarts gates. Taking a chance that no one would see them, Draco took Harry’s hand and pulled him across the castle grounds. It was freezing outside, and both sighed happily when they entered the castle and warmth washed over them.

Draco pulled Harry to the dungeons. “Where are we going?” Harry asked.

“My rooms.”

“Wow, you’re finally showing them to me?”

“Only if you are a good boy.”

“Sorry, I can’t promise that.” Harry grabbed Draco’s arse, making him yelp.

“Wait until we’re alone!” Draco swatted his hand and gazed around worriedly. There was always _someone_ lurking the corridors, and the portraits did like to gossip.

Medeia smirked when she spotted them. “Password?” she said.

“ _Boughs_ of holly.”

“Very good,” she said, condescending.

They went inside and Draco forced himself not to watch Harry look around. The elves had started up a fire and piping tea waited for them on the coffee table. 

“My tree isn’t as decorated as yours but I thought it was quite _regal_.”

“It is.” Harry played with some of the silver ribbon dripping from the branches. He took a deep breath and pulled out a tiny envelope from his pocket. He enlarged it and handed it to Draco.

“My final gift to you.” 

“Oh?” Draco opened the envelope and pulled out two tickets. His mouth dropped open. “This is for the British Opera of Magic . . . I don’t know what to say. How did you know?”

“I remember you mentioning it once that you loved seeing their performances.” Harry rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost embarrassed. “This was where I’d planned to ask you to dinner.”

Draco laughed. “I can’t believe you had to shower me with gifts for an entire month before mustering the courage to ask me to _dinner_.”

Harry laughed too, but his voice was soft. “Yeah . . . I wanted it to be perfect . . . You mean a lot to me.”

“Oh, Harry.” Draco took him by the shoulders and kissed him deeply. “Merlin, how are you not slurring your words right now? I might get drunk by just snogging you.”

Harry pulled him to the sofa. He sneaked his hand up Draco’s robes, caressing his stomach. “Sometimes I still can’t believe I can touch you.”

“Please, touch away. But first I have to give you Christmas gifts.” Draco enlarged two boxes from his robes. He bit his lip. “I’m embarrassed . . . they’re not as good as yours.”

“I already know they will be perfect.” He unwrapped the first gift, which was the broom servicing kit. “Wow! This is excellent quality.”

Draco shrugged. “I buy only the best.”

Shaking his head, Harry unwrapped the second gift. It was the red picture frame Draco had bought from the tabletop sale. Harry stared at it, gaping. “How did you get these photographs of us?”

Draco shrugged again. “I might’ve been . . . collecting them.” Harry gaped at him. “I know it’s nothing special, but the charm I put on it is strong and the photograph cycle should last a good long time.”

“I must be dreaming.” Harry pushed Draco onto his back. “This is the best gift . . . this is . . . God, I’m going to make love to you now.”

_Make love_. Draco shivered. He kissed Harry’s cheek. “I want you to.”


	30. Snowboarding

Harry kissed him over and over, his lips desperate, his breath very warm. Draco licked into his mouth, moaning as he tasted the sweet whiskey. 

Harry tore at Draco’s robes. Draco quieted his hands and easily slipped them off. Then he helped Harry with his ghastly Weasley jumper and his ridiculous, _wonderful_ glasses. Draco dragged his teeth against the stubble on Harry’s chin and neck, sucking lightly on his Adam’s apple. He moaned and Draco felt the vibrations in his lips.

“Want you,” Draco said. He smoothed his hands down Harry’s back, feeling the muscles in his shoulders.

“Yes.” Harry ground against him, and Draco gasped. Harry was hard and warm, and _ready_ for him. He was desperate to see Harry’s cock again. It made his mouth water.

“Take me to my bedroom.”

Harry scooped him up, then paused. “Eh . . . which door?”

Laughing, Draco clutched at him. “Right in front of you.” He remembered that Harry wasn’t wearing his glasses, and gulped.

“No green?” Harry said once they were inside Draco’s room. He gently laid Draco against the plush blue duvet. 

“Reminded me too much of the Slytherin dormitories.”

“Right.” Harry kissed down to lap at his nipples. Draco moaned and caressed his hair. He was getting a bit impatient, so he tore off his pants. Harry laughed and eased out of his trousers and pants too. 

Draco stroked Harry’s cock, feeling it twitch and harden more. He smeared the precome at the tip with his thumb, getting Harry wet. “Are you going to be a good boy for me?” he murmured.

“Fuck.” Harry thrust into his hand.

“You know, I only let good boys inside me.”

“ _Stop_. You’re gonna make me come,” Harry said.

“Such a good boy,” Draco purred, stroking his cock faster. “I’m just _throbbing_ for you. You’re gonna fill me up, right?”

“Draco.” Harry was panting. “Yes. _Yes_.”

He cast a lube spell and prepared himself with two fingers, then helped Harry get into position. When Harry slid into him, he gritted his teeth against the pain. Fuck, it always hurt when he took a cock up his arse, but the ache was intoxicating. It made his toes curl and light flash behind his lids; it made his stomach clench and all thought leave his mind. He had no past, no future, when he surrendered his arse. He barely fucking existed.

“Merlin,” Draco gasped, squirming, utterly trapped. He wrapped his legs around Harry. “Fuck me.”

Harry pulled out a little, then thrust back in. “God—you’re so tight—I can’t—”

“You can.” He dug his heels into Harry’s lower back. He clawed at Harry’s shoulders. “Give it to me. Fucking ruin me.” 

Harry leaned back on his knees and forced Draco’s thighs forward against his chest. He thrust hard, and Draco cried out.

“Is this what you want?” Harry thrust in again, harder.

Draco could barely breathed, his thighs burning. “Yes!”

Grasping his hips, Harry fucked hard into his arse. Draco was moaning, utterly overwhelmed. He writhed without thinking. “Don’t fucking move,” Harry said, tightening his hold. 

Draco tore at his shoulders, his forearms. Harry pounded into him, and he was trapped, so incredibly filled. He wanted to just burst.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” Harry panted.

“Yes!”

“Say it.” Unbelievably, Harry sped up his thrusting, his knees slipping against the sheets. Draco couldn’t speak. He was nothing, nothing at all. Harry brushed his knuckles against his weeping cock. “ _Say it_.”

“I’m yours!” And it was true, so fucking true. He couldn’t form thoughts, but he knew he was Harry’s. He’d been Harry’s for a long time.

“Draco.” Harry fell forward to rest on his arms. He kissed Draco deeply, panting into his mouth. “I’m gonna come.” Draco caressed his back weakly.

“Please,” Harry said.

“Harry.” Draco opened his mouth to his sweaty neck, breathing him in.

“Please,” he whined, his hips jerking.

“Do it.”

“God, I love you.” Harry moaned deeply, shaking, and Draco felt the warmth of his semen. He gave a few more feeble thrusts, then collapsed. 

Draco bit his lip and rutted against his stomach. He was so fucking close. 

Pulling out gently, Harry sucked Draco into his mouth. Draco cried out. He clutched at the bedding. “Fuck—fuck—” He was coming between those lips, dripping down that chin. Harry loved him. _Loved him_.

They lay in each other’s arms, their breathing slowly quieting. Harry kissed his temple. “How do you feel?”

Draco’s eyes were barely open. “Brilliant. I could snowboard right now.”

“ _Snowboard_?”

“Or any other stupid thing Muggles do during winter. Like skydiving.”

Harry pulled Draco closer. His chest shook with laughter. He kissed his nose and whispered, “Happy Christmas.”

“You too.” Draco snuggled closer. This was where he belonged.


	31. New Year's Resolutions

**One Year Later**

“Just—go right! I mean left!”

Harry wanted to throw his wand across the room. Neville was giving him direction, but he couldn’t see _shite_.

“I don’t understand what all the fuss is about,” Draco said, easily levitating three boxes into their new chambers. “It’s just an armoire.” 

“Just a—” Neville was spluttering. “This thing is the size of Hagrid!”

Draco shrugged. “It’s what you get for offering to help us move.”

Neville groaned. “No more talking. Both of you.” There was some struggle, but finally Neville got the armoire through the doorway. Breathing heavily, he said, “Where do you want it?”

“By the window—”

“Next to the fireplace—”

Harry and Draco looked at each other. Draco huffed. “It can’t go by the fireplace. What if it catches?”

“We’ll put a fireproof charm on it,” Harry said, shrugging.

Draco glared a little, obviously not wanting to debate in front of Neville. “Fine—it can go by the window _for now_.”

Harry laughed and focused on moving the rest of their belongings. After a year of dating, they had finally managed the courage to ask Minerva if they could live together at Hogwarts. Surprisingly, she had said yes.

Their chambers were magically enlarged, which was all right if you didn’t look too closely at the corners. Harry was excited but also nervous. Being with Draco was consuming, exhilarating, but he didn’t know if they could live together without hexing each other. He guessed the only thing they could do was try.

When they finished moving, they flopped onto their sofa with loud sighs and offered Neville some tea. 

“Thanks,” Neville said, pouring himself a cup. He sat back in his chair and wiped at his sweaty face. “What are your plans for tonight? You know, for the New Year?”

“Dunno,” Harry said, distracted. Draco rested against his chest, and Harry was playing with some of his blond strands. They had the tendency to be overly affectionate with each other in front of their friends, but Harry didn’t think Neville minded.

“We could go over to my parents',” Draco said, his eyes closed. “They always throw a big party.”

Harry caught Neville’s eye. They tried not to laugh.

“Ah . . .” Harry said, hoping Neville would save him.

“No, I want you two at the Leaky. We’re having a party and it wouldn’t be the same without you,” Neville said. Harry mouthed _thank you_.

“All right,” Draco said easily. He pushed himself up. “Merlin, I’m knackered.” 

“I’ll leave you two to rest up,” Neville said, finishing up his tea. He waved goodbye and left.

Harry helped Draco to their bedroom. Their bed wasn’t made, but he Summoned a few pillows and their favorite duvet. Laying down, he pulled Draco against his chest. Draco sighed and nestled closer. 

He wasn’t tired, so he watched Draco sleep, and thought about the last year. The castle had finally dried out from the snowstorm, but he was sure some of the tapestries would never be the same. Students abusing Weasley products was still a problem, though he doubted that would ever go away. And Trelawney had recently returned from rehabilitation at St Mungo’s. The rumors were that her class had improved immensely, but Harry still had his doubts. It _was_ Divination, after all.

He kissed Draco’s palm and smoothed his thumb over his knuckles. He stared at their entwined hands. Maybe, just maybe, he would propose . . . someday, but right now he was content with just living with Draco. Next to him, on his bedside table, were the red and green photograph frames they had gifted each other. The photos showed them at dinners and concerts, in their offices marking, and on the Quidditch pitch racing each other to the Snitch. 

And hidden somewhere in the boxes was the homemade advent calendar that Harry had made for Draco all those months ago. God, he was happy he took that chance. For his New Year’s resolution, he promised to take more chances. He had a good feeling Draco wouldn’t disappoint him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY I DID IT!
> 
> *pops champagne* 
> 
> *throws confetti*
> 
> What a challenge! I'm shocked that I was able to write a chapter every single day! I have to tell you -- some days it was a struggle. But thank you for reading! I appreciate everyone who followed the story! Happy New Year!


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